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A#l\^ '"^'V 



COlARKiMT UKl-OSn. 



LANCASTER 

L-Y-R-I-C-S 



THE CIRCLE IN THE vS 12 U A R E 

Hub of Lanc'ster centers, fair. 
In the circle, at its vSquare : 
And the daih' scenes of life 
Swell its bus\' waves of strife; 
Team and trolley moving- 'round, 
At four angles, e'er are found ; 
Auto cars and business vans 
Vie to bar its crowded spans ; 
Walking youth and waltzing maid 
Skip the Square at evening shade ; 
While the circle claims full share 
Of earnest folk, on its vSquare. 

May great markets good things show. 
To add fine store, with true glow ; 
May the masses bless fair place 
Which tall soldier-shaft doth grace ; 
May each Lancasterian pray'r 
Lift up Circle in the Square I 

Sfh/i^rnhfi to. n)i2 D. B. L. 



LANCASTER 

L-Y-R-I-C-S 



A Cheerful Volume 
OF Popular P o e m s 



DAVID BACHMAN LANDIS 

n 



Copiously Illustrated 

FROM THE 

Author 's Photographs 



Mv Land, of limpid streams, 
vSwiss heights, grand slopes: 

Thy Band loves toil, 'mid dreams 
Bliss flights and hopes I 



LANCASTER, PA. 

Prui.isHKi) AND Printed by the Author 
Pr.ucK Art Printerv 

1914 






COPYRIGHT, I9I4 
BY D. B. LANDIS 



MAY 29 1914 

©CI,A374254 



:::i 



TO 

A. B. KREIDER 

PERSEVERING STUDENT 
PRACTICAL TEACHER 
AND HAPPY SINGER 
OF THE HEM PFI ELDS 

THESK HOMELY LYRICS 

ARE 

OEDICATED 

BY A 

Former Pupil 



This initial tditioii of 
Lancaster Lyrics 

is limited to Four Hundred and Forty-four cojjies 
of which vonrs is 



No. 



-y. 



Signed 



Xll 



PRELUDE 

THE author offers these vari-tinted and -tuned versic 
tributes to all friendly lovers and followers (at home 
or elsewhere) of good, old-fashioned, every-day life 
and honest individual (even collective) effort in Lancaster 
County, as his personal, heart-shaped encouragement for 
their present edification and uplift; and to ever afford 
them, and others beyond Penn's sylvan bailiwick, inspira- 
tional outlook for a yet more optimistic, expansive future 
— free from undue, devastating fears ; — as, too, a-filling true 
men and women with impartial evidence of cheerful, help- 
ful influences in this (their) humanizing world, holding its 
pleasurable, destined hopes of God-given privileges and 
perfections for the next, ecstatic, spiritual sphere. 



NuTK. — Prior to 1886 the following poems were written in East Hempfield 
Township, under a youthful pen-name of "Davy Derby." After that period 
the major portion were composed since 1911, in Lancaster city; and this col 
lection is herewith presented, complete, without reserve, in the order of 
origin, after ten distinct sectional headings. 



Xlll 



TITLED CONTENTS 



The Circle in the Square 



Red Rose City Life 



My First Edition 
Lancaster Belles and Bells 
The "Lady Gay" 
When the Circus Comes to Town 
Old Feagleyville 
Flitting to the Fair 
At Hallow E'en 
When the Returns Come In 
The Public Marts of Lancaster 
Swimming on Our Little Conestoga 
Line Up, She 's On the Map . 
Notes ..... 



In and Out of Town 



Gems for All . . . . . 

Deft Dewej- ..... 
From My Front Window 
The Cat Parade .... 

Crooked Things for Straight People 
A-Riding in to Rohrerstown 
From Labor Day to Christmas Tide 
The Year is Born 
Going Out to Nature 
Boy, Man and Whip 
Boot and Shoe vShines 
Notes . 



Early Rhythm 



Forest Fancies 
To the High Wheel 
Karl's Kiss 
Winter 's Here 



PAGE 

25 
26 
28 
32 
35 
40 

44 
47 
49 
53 
56 
58 



61 
64 

67 
71 
75 
77 
80 
81 
82 
84 



07 
89 



93 
94 
96 

96 



XV 



TITLED CONTENTS 



Lines on Life . 
A Lengthy Novel Condensed 
When " He " Fails . 
Warm Work 

To You, "Village Vigil" 
Beautiful Sentiments 
May's Mantle . 
Notes 



The Ties of Home 



Katie Musselman Landis 
Allen Baker Landis 
Father's Friendly Face 
Mother's Flowers : A Memory 
Christmas Cakes 
The Pies I Prize 
Owed (Ode) to Landisville 
My Hempfield Homes 
Christmas Waking 
Duo Birthday Sonnets 
Notes 

Pert I 

How About This ? . 

Fast and Slow 

I Perspire — You Sweat ? 

How Would You Like to Take M3 

Moses 

All Aboard ! . 

A Prescription 

A Booster 

Five Times Ten 

Queer but Dear 

Weary Weather Wisdom 

Don't Do It . 

One, Two, Three ! . 

Too Much Of It 

vShirt Waists . 



\eksici. 



Place ? 



XVI 



TITLED CONTENTS 



Learning and Earning- 
Here and Now- 
New Life 
The Tiny Things 
Miss Sweetly . 
When Up or Down 
Short, but Sweet 
Find the Flaw 
Why, '■ Pluck " ? 
My Land 
Quick Decision 
Foresee Goatee 
Similarity 
They Spell and Are the 
Vive Valentine ! 
Proficiency 
Lo, It 's Clever ! 
Kindh- Win Them 
Notes 



Sam 



Dialectic Ballads 



Dot Belly ! . . . 

'Mobubble Trubble . 

Zani-dairy Ef-fish-uncy . 

Cullud Weddin ' Cheer 

Ab's Filosofy at th' Fourth 

Ven It 's Dutch und Halb Deutsch 

The Piano Man's Tale 

In Sight . 

Sawft-biled Aigs 

Ganunk und Tsu \Mel 

Deutsch far Dich 

Dat Meeksom' Muhl 

Josh's Inspiration 

Yip Luej's Chop Sue\- 

Say, amb Y'u ah Saint ? 

'Ligion an'Poloticks Don' Mix 

Why Write "Worses"? 



PAGK 
142 
142 

f43 

144 
144 

145 
146 
148 
148 
149 
149 



^59 
162 
167 
171 
173 
175 
178 
180 
180 
181 
184 
186 
188 
190 
192 



XVI 1 



TITLED CONTENTS 



At da Fruit-a Stan" .... 

L'at 's All Lite 

Seein ' Things ..... 

Fresh Paint ...... 

Der Court House Barper Blatz 

Hans Michel's Loch .... 

Stop, Look and Listen ! ... 

Die Grosa Fressa die Kleina Uf 

Valuable Things Come in Small Packages 

Sum " Lsms " . 

" Let 'er Flicker " . 

Tearin' Down an' Buildin' LTp 

A-Buyde Midt Mich .... 

Notes ...... 

Trii.LvS and Fkills 

Headache Again ! 
Marj' Had — 
Help the Hobbles 
Poetr}' vs. Poultry 
" Thirteen " 

All on Account of a Comma 
There is No Humor in Him 
For Sam' and Ben's vSake 
Notes 



PAGE 

193 
195 
197 
198 
199 
202 
204 
206 
207 
208 
210 
21 1 
212 
214 



217 
219 
220 
221 
223 
226 
228 
232 
234 



Vari-Chordkd Songs 

A Printer's Pick-Ups 
Don't Shirk Your Work 

Paths 

When the Robin Comes Again 

All Hail the Honor of Virtue's Name ! 

Anglo-Saxon and Germanic Songs 

Red, White and Blue 

Can You Not Cheat Yourself? 

Think of the Dear, Young Days 

Just the Right Stroke 

Evolutionarv Pronunciation of "Ad" 



237 
239 
242 
247 

248 
249 
253 
255 
257 
259 
261 



XVlll 



TITLED CONTENTS 



To-day's Sonnet 
Notes 



To AND About Friends 



One by One They Pass 

To My Friends 

To J. D. L. 

To H. E. H. . 

To C. E. h. 

To B. F. W. U. 

Extempore, To Mrs. M. O. R. 

To F. R. D. at Eighty . 

A Triolet for Rev. Dr. C. E. H. 

New Year Trio 

Four Rare Townsmen 

Eest We Forget 

Notes .... 



Lyrical Vision 



Going Years and Coming Seasons 

Laughing and Weeping 

Shorter Steeples 

Death's Sleep . 

Past and Present 

The Broad-minded Man 

My Hope 

All 's Well 

Bluish-green 

Self-denial 

Crossing Bridges 

New in You 

Let 's Laugh, To-day 

Awake, Asleep — Agone ! 

The Pleasant Paths of Peace 

Thy Triumph . 

A Retiring Prayer . 

Repose .... 

Notes 
Finispiece — The Author's Leaf 



PAGK 

263 
264 



267 
268 
269 
270 
271 
272 
273 
274 
275 
275 
276 
279 
280 



283 
286 
288 
291 
291 
292 
294 
296 
296 
297 
298 
300 
301 
303 
304 
306 

307 
308 
310 
314 



XIX 



ILLUSTRATIONS 



From personal photographs (except frontispiece and portraits). All rights reserved. 



Fronti.spiece — Petin Square and Mointnient, Lancaster, in i<S74 
The Conestoga River Prior to Spring 
vStreet Scene at Feagleyville Church 
Grand Gateway to Local Exhibition Grounds 
Corn Shocks in Hill-side Field near Mill Creek 
Typic Lancaster County Farm at McGovernville . 
Young Swimmers Ready for a Plunge into Willow Hole 
Early Mantle of vSnow on East Orange Street 
Mid-week Life from My Front Window .... 
Marietta Pike Bridge, Little Conestoga, nigh Rohrerstown 
Waiting for Some One to Come in the Rain 
Nature's Tracings at Gable's Park, along Conestoga 
Gigantic Chestnut Tree of Great Age, East of Landisville 
Wheat Field in East Hempfield Township, above Rohrerstown 
Portrait — Israel Christian Landis .... 
Portrait — Mary Musselman Landis .... 
First Log Meeting House of Old Mennonites, at Landisville 
The Second Hempfield Home, in Centreville 
The Fourth Hempfield Home, at Running Pump . 
The Fifth Hempfield Home and Store, in Salunga 
A Christmas Tree, Nineteen Hundred and Twelve 

The Place of Pluck 

The Ample Stand-pipe Close by City Reservoir 

Mr. Meeksome Mule Guarding His Stamping Ground . 

One of the Road-ways Leading to Hans Michel's Loch 

Vista, of County Capitol, from North Lime Street 

Isn't This a Funny F'ix Up, Any Way? 

Cow-path Trail near Old City Mill, by the Conestoga Rivei 

Favorite Path to Inviting vSpring at Long Park 

Landscape Overlooking Bamford, Lancaster County, Penn.sylvania 

The Conestoga from Indian Rock, Crest of Williamson Park 

Cloud Reflections in Conestoga River, near Gable's Park 

Familiar Bridge at Long Park Lake, Lancaster 

A Sylvan Road in East Hempfield, West of Rohrerstown 

Finispiece — David Bach man Landis ..... 



VI 

31 
39 
43 
45 
51 
55 
63 
69 

79 
85 
83 
95 

lOI 

108 
no 

117 

121 

123 

125 
129 

147 
161 

183 
203 

213 
231 
241 
245 
251 
277 
295 
299 

305 
315 



XXI 



iillllllllllllllllllllllHIIIIMIIIIIIIIilllllllllllllllllllilllllll 

RED ROSE 
CITY LIFE 



IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIHIIIIIIIillillllllllllllHIIIIIIilllMllllillllllll 



Lancaster Lyrics 



LANCASTER LYRICS 

MY FIRST EDITION 

This cannot be the very first 

Edition of a work I 've printed ; 
Yet, buyer, free, dost think I durst 

Deny brisk verses here white minted? 

They 're bunched in lots to touch bald spots 
Of homely hopes, and truths, so trite 

That few should fail to bear faint blots ; 
While more will in their mirth delight. 

Some may, in squareness, question me 

Regarding why I've "wrote" these rhymes; 

And others, doubtless, dare not see 

Those rare things smote thru richest chimes. 

I would advise each reader well, 

To be of cheerful mind and mood — 

Then, in thine warmest way, go tell 

Clear world this book has brought thee good ! 

March 14, igi2 D. B. L. 



25 



RED ROSE CITY LIFE 



LANCASTER BELLES AND BELLS 

How gladly the belles in Lancaster, fair, 
Stroll forth, their gayest apparel to wear ! 
Their graces to men are clever and prime ; 
Their footsteps so clear to motion and time. 

While bells in steeples do gravely bring 
All classes to church, to pray and sing, 
The belles of Lancaster take blithe notes 
When walking, a-talking from lively throats. 

Their chatter and clatter, while telling a tale 
Of matters material — of somebody's " sale," 
Of fashions and frolic, of parties and teas — 
These things, or what not, they waft to the breeze. 

Ye belles of our city, your charms belong 
To muses and scribes as they pass along ; — 
Not only do bells in towers peal praise. 
The belles as they walk have winsome ways. 

Men's minds are moved by bells with true ring; 
Men's hearts are hushed by belles while they sing; 
Sweet sounds of music, where'er these may be. 
Are guests of gladness, from gloom set free. 

26 



RED ROSE CITY LIFE 



'T is pleasant to learn that a "passing crowd" 
Has lessons of life for the meek and proud ; 
Thus, belles on the streets, or bells in light air. 
Are beacons of brightness, with beauties quite rare. 

The finest of flowers can fade in a day, 
The biggest of buildings in time fall away ; 
Strains of fair belles, though, ne'er seem old ; 
Tunes of bright bells, too, can 't grow cold. 

Then, belles and bells of Lancaster, fair. 
Keep moving right on through pure daily air; 
Your notes from free throats are songs sublime 
For printers and poets who sense their chime. 



April 26, Tgo2 



27 



RED ROSE CITY LIFE 



THE "LADY GAY" 

No other craft, old ark or raft — 

Smart canoe, 

Steamboat new — 
Has safer draft, fore and aft, 

Than "Lady Gay," 

Not far away. 

For twenty years, midst bliss or fears, 

This steady boat 

Has been afloat; 
Its only peers, two larger " steers," 

Have worn and went. 

Their powers spent. 

From Witmer's Bridge to Davis' Ridge, 

In summer's sun 

Fit barque has run; — 
To Rocky Springs, and Mill-Dam wings, 

She 's plied the way — 

Good " Lady Gay." 

How many joys, for girls and boys, 

This boat has seen 

From morn till e'en ! 
Its very noise, from pump — or poise — 

And curling steam, 

Have cleft cool stream. 



28 



RED ROSE CITY LIFE 

Con'stoga wide, our river pride, 

Rare scenes reveal 

From steamer's keel. 
Cap. Peoples' stride slows to a " ride," 

When at front wheel 

He props each heel. 

The decks so large, on this dear barge, 

Have deftly held 

Young hearts and eld ; 
And parties grand, with picnic band, 

Fill'd up bare spot 

Near boiler hot ! 

The darktown twains — their swellest swains- 

To "Rocky" tripp'd. 

And cake-walks skipp'd ; 
Then homeward came, in hot-time frame, 

On board the way. 

With "Lady Gay." 

Each motor-boat or moving float, 

Whate'er their kind. 

Is left behind 
By "Lady Gay," who 's bound to stay! 

She 's young, yet old, 

From top to hold. 

29 



RED ROSE CITY LIFE 

Joy-bathers, free, have jump'd in glee 

Abaft her wheel. 

Or wooden keel ; 
And one would think when nigh her brink, 

They could not clear 

Their plunges, queer. 

Oh ! " Lady Gay," long ought she play 

On Conestoga, 

To hoist her toga ; 
She 's brightly brave on water's wave. 

And glibly glides 

All tempest tides ! 



March 9, igi2 



30 



RED ROSE CITY LIFE 



WHEN THE CIRCUS COMES TO TOWN 

For days and weeks, where'er you go, 

At country side or city street. 
Bright circus bills their colors show — 

Bold advertising, hard to beat. 

'T was ever thus. When we were nine 
In Seventy-one, at Hempfield farm, 

Some circus "stunts," on posters fine, 
Their showy tricks to us put charm. 

The one-ring tent was then in vogue. 
And all big acts could thus be seen; 

From clever clown to hee-haw rogue, 
Or rural Rube with grimace green. 

The caravans of old trail'd down. 

By night, o'er dusty pikes and lanes; 

When trav'ling circus came to town, 
'T was clear of rapid railroad trains. 

At present age pert boys of nine. 

Or twelve, or 'teens, as we well know. 

For weary hours await such sign 

When circus folks their feats will show. 



32 



RED ROSE CITY LIFE 



Before dull dawn of day in June, 
The circus train comes into town ; 

Its covered vans and cars give tune 

To creaking wheels, all weighted down. 



When side-tracked near to public park, 
Vast crowds of bustling boys are there 

To watch broad wagons drawn, while dark. 

From flat-fram'd cars, bound strong and square. 



At ten o'clock, adown close street. 

The circus bands twang brand-new notes ; 

And riders brave — full dress'd, 'stride seat 
With gaudy trappings — pass on, nigh floats. 



The prattling people line pack'd way; 

The high and low stand side by side ; 
While elephants and camels sway 

In wobbling unison and pride. 



Steam caliope, in bursting blasts. 

Blurts out shrill sounds ! And then we know 
Parade pomp's o'er! Its pleasure lasts — 

Aftnoon and e'en we see this show ! 



33 



RED ROSE CITY LIFE 



Then down and out at end of flights 
Of whirling things above, below, 

We wend our way. The leaping lights 
From fakirs' lamps lead, as we go. 



The frying worsts and water-ade 

Lure shining dimes ; and nickels roam, 

While they do last. How soon are made 
Our circus trips, in sleep, at home! 



Jinie /, igi2 



34 



RED ROSE CITY LIFE 

OLD FEAGLEYVILLE 

DESCRIPTIVE 

Old Feagleyville, the end of jokes ! 

In north-west part of Prince Street place, 
The humble homes of working folks 

Enthrall this spot of colored race. 

Its patch-work huts of single story, 
And slanting roofs of tin and tar, 

E'er were — still are — the village glory 
To give it fame, anear, afar ! 

The crooked walks and rubbish piles 
Of Feagleyville were in their prime 

Awhile ago, when their own styles 
Lent aid to life or wretched crime. 

Gray Grannies sat, at open door. 

With corn-cob pipes in clouds of smoke ; 

And neighbors oft stood near to pour 
Their tales abroad, about fast folk. 

Some years agone, while on a jaunt 
Thro' Lancaster at northern end, 

The writer met, near Feagley haunt. 
An octogenic " dusky friend." 

35 



RED ROSE CITY LIFE 



His happy face fill'd with delight 
As he look'd o'er my photo views — 

And this is how he told aright 
A tale of "colored" village news: 

fegl'vill' chu'ch 

W'y dat 's ole Fegl'vill's hi' chu'ch 1 

De pictur 's gran', 'deed, Meestah Pluck! 

Oh, yas ; I kno's yu — yer post ca'ds t'uch 
Ma h'at jis' a-bit lik' big Lo'd's book. 

Fine Fegl'vill' chu'ch ! See it ob' dah ! 

It mak's me t'ink ob de preachas 
I h'ard a-driben' de debil awa' 

B'low Dixie 'mong Su'dern teachas. 

Let 's see de oder print yu hab' 

Ob Fegl'vill' chu'ch — It 's de ole spot 

Shuah's you lib' ! — I cu'd jis' grab 
Dat picter, fo' it mak's me hot. 



Dat chu'ch, Meesta' Pluck, cotch'd de coons- 
Fo' yeahs dey jes' had ter lis'en ; 

An' Brud'er Jones jawed de spoons 
He co't in de co'nahs a-kissin'. 



36 



RED ROSE CITY LIFE 



Wat else tuk place, at mo'nah's bench? 

De sistahs, shuah, kin alwus tell ; 
De Lawd was good ter eb'ry wench 

An' sab'd dere so'ls frum fu'nace-hell. 



Yu wants ter know how brudders did, 
Wen Pasto' Jones hit dere brack bones? 

Wifout much mu'cy, he jis' slid 

Right down so ha'wd dat dey all gro'ns ! 

Huh, ha ! it jis' helps ma feel young — 
An' dat helps de ole fo'kses, tew, — 

Ter heah de hym's Fegl'vill' sung 
At ebenin' sarvice in each pew. 

I say ut now, ma plucky fren', 

Jis' show dem prints tu people, w'ite. 
An' tell 'em den Fegl'vill's en' 
■ Is boun' tu bring de brack 'roun' right I 



PROSPECTIVE 

The quaint box-tower'd house of praise, 
For shaded saints at Feagleyville, 

Stands 'cross the street; and, by its gaze, 
A busy bake-plant plies great skill. 

37 



RED ROSE CITY LIFE 



The happy homes, at former shrines, 
Are giving way to wealthy need. 

And Feagleyville must pay its fines 
To business method's growing speed. 



Jiine 2j, i()i2 




38 



RED ROSE CITY LIFE 



FLITTING TO THE FAIR 

To-day my folks have fled away 

To see the Fair, in froHc, gay ; 

I 'm left alone, as one must stay 

Right here, at home, to make some "hay"- 

Not as on farm 

With its free charm. 

But by type case 

In printer's place. 

Outside, a man, with megohorn, 
Impels the crowd to move — to warn 
Them well, e'en when they scorn 
Such friendly help, from early morn; 

While blue-coat "cops" 

Watch pushing fops 

Press into range 

For flitting change. 

The ten -cent tickets soon are sold 
To bustling maids, and males as bold ; 
Then shuttle train of Pennsy road 
From depot draws its human load — 

Winds up steel track 

With engines, back 

And front, that slow 

Down at fat show. 



40 



RED ROSE CITY LIFE 

'T is stren'us thus, to enter there, 
Thro' turning gates at Long Park Fair; 
Tho' deal is straight as Teddy's, square. 
And feels great, too, as country air ; 

The last you 're sure 

To get, and pure ; 

And then you '11 land 

At Trail-way, grand. 

The sights of tents and buildings, wide. 
Are treat for all, who go inside 
To part with cash, per local pride ; 
Who view fresh scope from Ferris ride ; 

While no one knows 

Until he goes. 

How things are done 

To have Fair fun. 



A dusky dame will read your palm 
With naught to shy her storied qualm ; 
Your fate is full of brightest balm — 
The more you fee her now, will calm 

A bank of gold 

You '11 surely hold 

In better days. 

As business pays. 



41 



RED ROSE CITY LIFE 

You take a tip at shady game 
And try to win with splendid aim — 
The trickster's job is just the same — 
For he is there, by fakir frame ; 

A bunch of nerves 

Astute on curves, 

He '11 smile and grin 

And pile your "tin." 

You view clean, belted cattle stock. 
Or, new and fancy chicken flock, 
And see tall grain, e'en corn in shock — 
Until you ache — near six o'clock, 

At closing pace 

Of trotting race. 

With dreary strain 

And weary pain. 

The rush for cars, in evening, late, 
And crush to leave thro' exit gate, 
These add some fluff to heavy fate 
Of those who reach their flats, at eight, 

With heads a-whirl 

And legs a-twirl ; 

Or bones all-fired 

Sore and tired. 



October 3, igiz 



42 



RED ROSE CITY LIFE 



AT HALLOW E'EN 

THE FIELDS 

When October chills his closing hours 
With Fall-time winds, o'er fading flow'rs, 
The hi!l-side woods, near native town, 
Are guarding golden growths, and brown. 
The pumpkins rest by fodder'd shock 
Of yellow corn bound close in stock; 
While rambling boys reach out their arms 
And gather up these ripen'd charms. 



THE "KIDS 

When glowing lights are leaping out 
From window'd homes, as if to scout 
The fronting ground for tricksome boys 
Whose whereabouts is blaz'd by noise, — 
Then ringeth door-bell with a will 
And wingeth corn-grain at each sill ; 
While fleeing hosts haste down lone street 
With gleeing hearts and agile feet. 



44 



RED ROSE CITY LIFE 



THE MAIDS 



The deep'ning night pale shadows trace 
At hearth-place bright ; and girls, with grace, 
Are watching for some witching mime — 
Or, scoffing at a switching time 
With future fates, they see, in haze, 
Soul-sutur'd mates, specters ablaze ; 
Thus dreaming, while in drowsy turn. 
The girlish guile 's to wish, and learn. 



THE STREETS 

'T is Hallow Eve ; the space, North Queen 
And two King Streets ; the chase, full keen- 
The jolly crowds jolt back and forth 
By trolley routes, east, west, south, north — 
The town 's aloud with awful noise 
From groups of girls and bands of boys. 
From hooting horn, or rattling drum — 
The scooting corn, confetti, come 

In steady sheen. 

At Hallow E'en! 



Noveynbcr 9, igi2 



46 



RED ROSE CITY LIFE 



WHEN THE RETURNS COME IN 

A calm, clear night in November 

O'ertops the throbbing town; 
And anxious men all remember 

Votes cast for Smith or Brown ; 
They "hike" down street, hard by old Square, 
And line up like '"eats" on bill of fare. 



There 's been a bloodless election 
Held thro' Columbus land ; 

The big ballots pass'd inspection 
At each precinct booth-stand ; 

And now returns are coming in. 

By wired nerves, midst growing din. 



The Rep-ocrats are seeking bettors, 
Assured by mighty hopes ; 

Dem-publicans flock (their debtors) 
Around, with flighty gropes; 

While So-gressives and Pro-cialists 

And Prohib. parties mix like mists. 



47 



RED ROSE CITY LIFE 

Their voices wave in vast out-pours, 

When figures are put, bright. 
On blackboards swung 'bove printshop doors, 

Flared up by 'lectric light ; 
And, as the hours flit on, in turn. 
Defeated ones their fate do learn. 



The younger sets stride by, a-grouping. 
In their swift, gifted joys ; 

Each eager sex doth vie a-whooping 
Things up, full well for noise — 

Bold lads blow long, with windy horn — 

And lasses throng, till early morn. 



A brass band comes 'round, a-drumming, 
And shuts out sound from bells ! 

The victor's hosts close in, a-humming ; 
The air is rent by yells ! 

While marchers wake mad, sleeping foes 

And blare away at their deep woes ! 



November- i6, igi2 



48 



RED ROSE CITY LIFE 



THE PUBLIC MARTS OF LANCASTER 

FOOD FROM THE FARM 

Each market day, of moving week, 
The tiller brings fresh things to us 

From farming way ; he tries to seek 
Free outlet for his best fruits, thus. 

With thrifty help, he toils to give 
The finest foods for those who eat — 

The ripest growths, so folks shall live — 
The choicest eggs, and cuts of meat. 

In season's time, red cherries, sweet. 
Or berries, black, are brought and sold 

For city use ; as good, rare treat 

To poor or rich, the young and old. 

Fat, feathered fowl, or dressed kind. 
Have ready sale at market-stall ; 

While cabbage, beets and beans we find 
A-plenty — hale veg'tables for all ! 



49 



RED ROSE CITY LIFE 



BASKET BRIGADE 



With baskets, big, wise patron goes 
Twice weekly to some selling place 

To purchase food-stuffs ; and get those 
Rare cheeses made by German race. 

Plump matrons buy, with shrewdest skill. 
As they wedge down each double aisle, 

Pure butter, lard and pork, to fill 

Wide, weighted baskets, worth their while. 

Few muses gather, for small change, 

The products that their mates can gain. 

With market baskets broad in range; — 

Cooks know the " good goods cheap," that 's 
plain ! 

MARKET HOUSES 

Lancaster marts are hous'd full well 

In buildings of most gen'rous size. 
Great Central one 's prepared to sell 

Produce galore ; while Northern lies 
Three blocks away ; with Western place 

And Eastern house, or Southern stand 
Close city Square. Fulton doth grace 

No final ground for trucking, grand ! 



50 



RED ROSE CITY LIFE 
THE CURBSTONE STANDS 

The last, the best, mart for true spouse 
Of lab'rnig man, is boldest stand 

In Lancaster — around Court House — 
Curbstone sales-place, oldest in ye land. 

'Neath warming sun or cooling shade. 

In summer days or winter's morn, 
Plain Mennonites and Amish trade 

By humble ways — " since they were born." 

These honest folks, of modest mien 
And simple speech, from native sod, 

Like solid oaks, are living screen — 

Good men to mart fine fruits from God ! 



December 23, igi2 



52 



RED ROSE CITY LIFE 



SWIMMING ON OUR LITTLE CONESTOGA 

Of all safe swimming places in Penn's land, 
There 's none small lad loves like our 'Stogie, grand- 
Dear, clear Little Conestoga ; 
And when warm, Springing season shows her hand, 
Why, then each day, near noon, behold nude band 
O' chaps on Little Conestoga ! 

We 've seen great bathing hollows, in low sand. 
Where boys have bravely gone, bare sprites — so bland- 

Into Little Conestoga; 
And, while in basking costume, they were brand 
Of "kids," and kind, to stretch their ev'ry gland 

By banks o' Little Conestoga! 



We 've known of Winter wood-chuck and his hole. 
Or fur-kind marmot, muskrat, move as mole 

Afore Little Conestoga; 
Yet, do you really, truly know of goal 
With just such diverse washouts, on the whole, 

As jog Little Conestoga? 



53 



RED ROSE CITY LIFE 

Here is a partial roster, on parole, 
Of pool-sites — plunging spaces that console — 
Along Little Conestoga: 

North from pike bridge, nigh Rohrerstown- 

Bold "Willow Hole," 

Then " Baby Hole," 

Near old " Spike Hole," 
South railroad piers, swept high at crown ; 
"Bloodsucker Hole" 

Next shoal doth dole 

'Fore "Oreville Hole." 

West End Park ridge, 'Stoga adown — 

"Horseshoe Bend Hole" 

Floats many a soul 

'Bove "Sandy Hole!" 

Febrtiary 25, igij 



54 



RED ROSE CITY LIFE 



LINE UP, SHE 'S ON THE MAP 

Line up with Lancaster — 

My critic-chap ! 
Get free from gap, 
Nigh lethic nap — 

Twine up with Lancaster ! 

Line up with Lancaster ! 

Take off torn cap ; 
Throw 'way worn wrap ; 
Grab taut strong strap — - 

Sign up with Lancaster ! 

Line up with Lancaster ! 

Give her a tap ; 
Live in her lap ; 
Speak of her snap- — 

Vine up with Lancaster ! 
56 



Apr'il T2, igij 



RED ROSE CITY LIFE 

Line up with Lancaster! 

Drop fair, and dap ; 

Stop square — ne'er sap ; 

Pop there for pap — 
Dine up with Lancaster ! 



Shine up with Lancaster ! 
Do n't whine or slap, 
Knock, pine or rap ; 
She 's on the map — 

Line up with Lancaster ! 



57 



RED ROSE CITY LIFE 



NOTES 

Frontispiece. — The author's early memory of Centre (or latterly, Penn) Square, 
is personified in Photographer Cummings' treatment of Lancaster's most lofty 
marker. Would that all wires entangling its ennobling beauty and natural 
serenity were buried from present-day prospect. 

Pages 26-27. — The central field of and for these musical lines is at Duke 
and Orange. Streets, radiating in every direction ; and the period of time, 
about the Easter season. These verses were written after viewing Hoch's 
'When .Sabbath Bells Chime." 

Pages 28-30. — One of a series of realistic descriptions throughout this work. The 
''I^ady Gay" kept Lancaster life on a kindlj^ lexel ; and she was, in her 
floating way, the city's freest publicity purveyor to traveling comers and 
goers. 

Pages 32-34. — Where is there lad or lass, man or woman, who would not be 
"worked up" at morning arrival of an American circus? This annual ag- 
gregation of wonders is always alive and ready for doing things — or un- 
doing its attendants' pockets. 

Pages 35-38. — One of the writer's typical dialect compositions, wherewith he 
has clothed his subject of Feagleyville in free and homely fashion. 

Pages 40-42. — The Fair is Lancaster's most startling Fall advertiser. 'Tis ever 
the same, full of diversion and free from formalit3^ — equitable to every- 
body within its gates. 

Pages 44-48. — The stir and bluster at Hallow E'en and on Election Night are 
synonymous. The air and local populace are alike fresh and buoyant, put- 
ting neighborhood surroundings, for the time being, on a lively basis. 

Pages 49-52. — A friend and former Y. IVL C. A. Secretary urged the author to 
poetize Lancaster's markets. Observer Risk once stated that there was no 
poetry in a market basket. Acting, however, on Mr. Gibson's advice, some 
"good things" are told of our ample and splendid food supplies, "regard- 
less of cost." 

Pages 53-54. — Riley, popular poet, mused much and well on a lone "Old Swim- 
ming Hole," one-time out his way. Here, along our Little Conestoga, we 
have hopeful "holes" a-plenty (with real names), which are exposed to 
public gaze ; as, also, now recorded by original verse and faithful picture — 
the latter having been commented upon as being suggestive, but which 
portrayal is absolutely true to five young fellows ready for a plunge into 
"Willow Hole," while a trusty camera quickly captures the clever scene. 

Pages 56-57. — "Line l^p With Lancaster" is an own contribution, as a strong 
and worthy slogan. That it may serve its purpose lastingly, "Line tfp, 
vShe 's On The Map" is produced at this time, with the writer's best wishes. 

58 



nil mil mill i ii ii ii i ii i ii 



IN AND OUT 
OF TOWN 



Lancaster Lyrics 



GEMS FOR ALL 

The other night 
I hied me down home city street ; 

The view was bright, 
And all around were busy feet. 



The lurid lights 
Revealed rich rays from prisms, fair- 

And frosted kites, 
O'erhead, did fill the limpid air. 



The sifting snow 
Was cold, yet pure and very crisp — 

Light winds laid low 
Each falling, flick'ring will-'the-wisp. 

The frozen dew 
Like gems, for all, did briefly shine ; 

While, ever new. 
Brighter a-fell and glisten'd, fine. 



61 



IN AND OUT OF TOWN 

The lesson, now 
P>om frosty flakes, I freely fling — 

Make each fresh vow 
Of life, to get and grandly bring. 

The many ways 
For words and acts, or thoughtful deeds, 

Will surely raise 
High hopes and strength for human needs. 

December 2S, igo6 D. B. L. 



62 



IN AND OUT OF TOWN 



DEFT DEWEY 



" Dewey," the dog, was yellow and young, 
His face was n't fair, 'cept eyes and tongue ; 
He lodged in Lanc'ster with Ad. Stark 
And dodged street-cars for daily lark. 

I 've read in staid school books, long ago, 
Of Rover, "the nimblest dog," you know; 
With feet very fleet in canine race. 
And every streak of dog-owned grace. 

Yet, my lads, there ne'er were dogs so deft 
"Dewey" might beat 'em right and left; 
His head and stern tail went like a sail. 
When down old town he struck new trail. 

His eyes blinked joy by day or night, 
'Neath lashes of hair, light brown and bright 
Goatee had he in generous gift. 
As hind-legs long, so lank and swift. 

There never was ever a dog like he, — 
For " Dewey," you see, ran fast and free 
After cars or cats, and boys with bats. 
And scared bold sparrows 'way like rats. 



64 



IN AND OUT OF TOWN 



He bobbed out doors, then down front street, 
With froHcsome form and frisky feet ; 
He ne'er felt better than flirting tail 
Front east-bound trolleys on steel rail. 



"Dewey" did dodge the motor-cars, all, 
Sniffing fenders without e'en fall; 
He smiled, as he ran this way or that. 
And skipped from peril ever so pat. 



His swift running pace, with wry grimace, 
Inspired writer to note Dewey's chase ; 
If only a dog set mind to thinking, 
'Twas this one with such handsome blinking. 



I watched his ways for many days — 
Apt capers, a-worthy of due praise ; 
No harm did he to human being, 
While all his acts were full of meaning. 



One Fall, when freemen were at ward polls 
Voting for those who exact our tolls, 
Deft "Dewey" was off on some of his stunts, 
Running past street-cars in play-punts. 



65 



IN AND OUT OF TOWN 



'Fore long, this dog was a-lost to view — 
And, later, grim tale came to me and you 
" Dewey," the swift, got swept at last 
By the wheels he chased when going fast. 



Let 's add a few lines to " Dewey's" fame, 
That folks can think of his frank name : 
He did the best with clear legs so long 
As any one could, to cheer with a song. 



February 15, igj2 



66 



IN AND OUT OF TOWN 



FROM MY FRONT WINDOW 

WHAT DO I SEE? 

A-plenty o' sights of good, an' perhaps 
Not good, as glossed o'er at weak gaps; 
For th' throbbing world whirls busily by 
Bold view-point brought to my eagle eye. 

THE OP'nING week 

Each Monday marches forth to trade ; — 
And many marts of men are made 
Rich and ripe, in season and out, 
With stocks and chattels full and stout, 

THE MASSES MOVE 

Th' trolleys an' autos roll roundly by 
With noises, their own, one's nerves to try ; 
While drays and coupes in slower ways 
Drag on, in sunlit or storm-spent days. 

AT MID-WEEK 

The railway and street have each been plied ; 
Their traffic o' live- and dead-stock tried; 
The pace and th' race of man or beast 
Have added hoards, both west and east. 

67 



IN AND OUT OF TOWN 



GAILY THEY GO ! 



Thursday an' Friday find many folks free 
To flit to ye Fair, or nickel "movies" see; 
An' while somebody's sons are at sane work, 
Their brothers, e'en sisters, such will shirk. 



PAY-DAY S HERE 



When Saturday comes, Toil's week-tide ends ; 
My window'd front greets working friends, 
Going down close town to part with cash 
For goods they need — or not, when trash. 

THE Sunday's sight 

The shops are shut, and Sunday's sun 
Awakes late sleepers, one by one ; 
Pert lady an' "gent" pedestrians pass 
My window, and " use it for a glass." 

To church some go — and others roam 
Where'er their fancy leads, from home ; 
The live-long day, when th' weather's bright. 
Finds fash'nable folks in free delight. 

A neighb'ring band bangs up a tune 
Aft each and ev'ry Sunday noon ; 
And rag-time rills roll away in frills. 
With music or marches to mend one's ills. 



68 



IN AND OUT OF TOWN 



The window space at my parlor seat 
On Sunday 's surely a sightly treat ; 
Hither 'n' thither fair maidens meet 
Their manly mates, with winsome feet. 

THE FOUR SEASONS 

In Winter's cold th' hurrying crowd 
Hastes by my home, like winds, — aloud 
With active hearts, and hopes, — of will 
Which cheers all on, — nor clouds can chill. 

In Spring-time grand, with gay attire, 
The same crowds come, in gleeful fire ; 
Parading 'fore place, with plumes and plush, 
And gladly greeting their friends with "gush.' 

When Summer's sun its rays spend, warm, 
More sluggish pace is trac'd from morn 
'Til dusky eve ; — sweet slumbers seek 
To still and soothe firm forms or meek. 

The fading Fall its splendors spread 
In fields of gold, where tillers tread ; — 
My window perch wists at front street, — 
There people go with tripping feet ! 

March 12, igi2 

70 



IN AND OUT OF TOWN 



THE CAT PARADE 

Across the fence, 

I wist not whence, 
A sunrise song opes some new day; 

The strains are faint, 

Quite queer and quaint. 
For human ears to hark their lay. 



Oft, as I wake. 

These sounds do make 

Me feel like saying things ; my friend, 
'T is best to hold 
In check one's scold ; — 

Let 's kneel to praying — and eke the end. 



I cannot stand 

This soulless band — 
So down back stairs I step my way; 

And, with a stone, 

Or bit of bone. 
From kitchen door, I at them sway ! 



71 



IN AND OUT OF TOWN 

Now ev'ry cat 

Begins to skat 
To other yards, not far away ; 

Their heads and tails 

Turn 'round hid rails — 
And they are gone, without delay. 

Soon cheeky Tom 

Doth hither come 
To seek his song friends stride close fence. 

Well, I 'm a jade ! 

This cat parade 
Jogs by my place, in size immense ! 

What shall I do. 

But shoo till blue? 
And, with a broom I at them lurch — 

Then oflf they go, 

All in pat row. 
And, later, watch me from post-perch. 

I have a mind 

To try and find 
A mode to clean this cat-nest out ; — 

Sure trap is set ; — 

And, you may bet. 
These scratching sneaks dark danger scout. 



72 



IN AND OUT QF TOWN 

A neighbor near, 

Who owns no fear, 
His plan prepares to catch these cats ; 

He puts wove wire 

On tree-tops, higher, 
Or thinks to rid them off like rats. 

Yet each pet plan 

Of muse or man. 
Does not induce puss-cats to leave ; 

And their best wits 

Grow worse, in fits ; — 
The feline folks walk free, believe. 

The cat parade 

At grape-vine glade 
Adds its own charms to all their "hide;" 

Weird caterwaul 

With shadows fall ; 
And wily Tom woos well his bride. 

Full cat-call flute, 

Ballads to boot, 
Bring nightly noise for grave or gay ; 

And black-cat cries. 

Or gray one's eyes. 
Are evil enuf at end of day. 

73 



IN AND OUT OF TOWN 

A-top the fence, 

'T is there, and thence. 
That fearful fights are fought outright ; 

Whate'er their grade. 

Each cat parade 
Will find its finish in spat and spite ! 



March jo, igrs 




74 



IN AND OUT OF TOWN 



CROOKED THINGS FOR STRAIGHT PEOPLE 

There 're many crooked things, my folks, 
In these old parts of William Penn ; 

They 've crept close by its sturdy oaks 
And will, in truth, do so again ! 

What are these many crooked things, 
A-welling up like Lititz Springs? 
They 're twisted bretzels, crisp and brown, 
For people, straight, from farm or town. 

There 're other crooked things to tell, 

But they belong, well, far away ; 
To bare their bones, with clanging bell. 

Would never do on this bright day! 

What are the other crooked things 
A-leaching up like lava springs? 
They're lazy ways of men and wives. 
And badness bends their wretched lives. 

There 're crooked codgers ev'rywhere. 
In God's great globe of living souls ; 

The de'il's rascals reach thro' the air 
To gain rich prize from plain to poles ! 



75 



IN AND OUT OF TOWN 



But, surely, these are crooked things 
That don't belong to Lititz Springs; 
Its waters blend, in straightest line, 
With toothsome bretzels bak'd quite fine. 



There 's crooked business in the land. 
But this, of course, is not near here; 

The Landis clan have taken hand, 

Judge Kennesaw has knock'd it queer ! 

He ought right now just see the things 
Around these shades at Lititz Springs ; 
We 'd treat him straight to Adam's ale, 
And eat good bretzels without fail. 



July 22, igi2 



76 



IN AND OUT OF TOWN 



A-RIDING IN TO ROHRERSTOWN 

The way to do, 
When feeling blue, 

Is to pack up your pluck — ne'er frown- 
Then take my tip 
And make your trip 

By riding in to Rohrerstown ! 



The Red Rose city 

May pass a pity 
For the farm folks, a-tanned so brown; 

Yet, the truth is. 

There 's free, new bliss 
To be a-found 'round Rohrerstown ! 



Just take a hike 

On Mar'etta pike. 
By Shank's slow mare, up hill or down, 

And, then, ere nine, 

Your shape should shine 
Somewhere, a-sure, nigh Rohrerstown ! 



77 



IN AND OUT OF TOWN 

When on a wheel, 

A youth can feel 
Like a flyer, with a cycle crown ; 

Why, soon he '11 stop 

To swell his crop 
A-right side up at Rohrerstown ! 

Again, 't is jolly 

To take a trolley 
With those who care for cheap renown ; 

The route 's longer — 

Helps one's hunger — 
For the rich things in Rohrerstown ! 

If you 've sought to 

Go there by auto. 
Of course you will beat any houn'; 

And, 'thout fussin', 

You '11 just buzz in — 
Right in royal to Rohrerstown ! 

O, sad to relate, 

We wo n't aviate 
For yet awhile o'er Rohrerstown ; 

As Aaron's yard 

Must be too hard 
To smash the air-ships brash and brown ! 

August lO, I()I2 

78 



IN AND OUT OF TOWN 



FROM LABOR DAY TO CHRISTMAS TIDE 

In running up the monthly scales, 
From January to Decemb., 
This set is easy to rememb., 
Since Mem'ry rarely ever fails 
To serve her end 
In quadri-blend : 

September October, November, Decemberl 



When going down the yearly route 
With New Year, to his oldest days, 
This quartette, in their boldest ways. 
Glide swiftly by us, down and out, 
To start, once more. 
Such routine o'er : 

September, October, November, Decemberl 



October 26, igi2 



80 



IN AND OUT OF TOWN 



THE YEAR IS BORN 

Strange sounds are stealing o'er eld space 

Of Sleep, nigh yielding year; 
Dream rounds of pealing bells do trace 

The deep air-fielding, near; 
Odd pipes start whistling forth shrill wave 

Of tones, at fleeting sign. 
While folks are list'ning ; none so brave 

As those near meeting-shrine ! 



Great hum of ringing notes roll strong 

O'er tops of buildings, high ; 
God's hosts are springing hopes, — their song 

Swings up, a-gilding sky ! 
Old Year is going out, for good. 

His deeds now leaving, done ; 
New Year is growing, where sire stood. 

Fresh-born, free-breathing Son ! 



January 5, igij 



81 



IN AND OUT OF TOWN 

GOING OUT TO NATURE 

There's naught to do, to-day? 
Can we not walk, away. 

To Nature's wold. 
Where field and fen display 
God's yield? — erst glens delay 

Man's future hold ! 

There 's fraught fresh view, to-day ! 
Rich meads, bright vales — survey 

Of Nature's fold ! 
High hills, steep slopes, portray 
'Mid thrills, their might — essay 

Sure purpose, bold ! 

There 's aught that 's new, to-day — 
Young grass grows from decay 

In Nature's mold ; 
Dry moss, wet weeds obey 
Laws of Cause ; seeds convey 

Safe fruitage, gold ! 

There 's caught some cue, to-day, 
By steps — to sense, repay — 

No Nature 's cold ! 
Vast truths greet us ; purvey 
Pure trust, warm hopes ; relay 

All wisdom, told ! 



Jatutary 12, igij 

82 



IN AND OUT QF TOWN 

BOY, MAN AND WHIP 

ON BEHIND 

Did you ever view light wagon 

Going down some road, 
With due boy or two just a-taggin' 

Back of slightest load? — 
That you never caught gay dodger 

From the sunny side 
Crying — to glum, driving codger 

Front — this funny chide : 
"On Behind!" 

Did mute teamster, " quick as thunder," 

Turning to the rear 
Of fruit wagon, slick cut under 

Bed of carriage-gear? — 
While cute youngsters gave free laughter 

To long whip-lash, near, 
As they nimbly follow'd after — 

Hap'ly, without fear — 
"On Behind!" 



When slow Dobbin shambles, meekly, 

Up lone village street. 
With bow-legged scrambles, weakly. 

As from weary feet, — 

84 



IN AND OUT OF TOWN 

Then know, too, that Bob is waiting, 
'Long this pathway, bright. 

To let go pat, well-knit prating- 

Song — bliss-wove phrase, light — 

"Mister, Y'ur Wheels 're Coin' 'Round!" 

When warm driver sights cold scape-grace- 

Youthful "dolt" at that— 
He scorns horse-flight, or slow ape-pace. 

While he scolds sly " brat "— 
Wafts bad humor, in mad fashion — 

Bile words, tit for tat ; 
Yet, Bob wiggles from whip lashin' 

Glibly, with chit-chat : 

"Mister, Y'ur Wheels 're Coin' 'Round!" 

HORSE-KILLER 

Hast thou, elder, heard of hyphen- 

Ated word like one 
The writer shalt place, per siphon, 

At whip-verselets, done? — 
Then thee canst sense, as youth before, 

Why 't was ever thus — 
A boy, humanely, wilt but outpour 

His wrath when grievous : 

"Horse-Killer!" 

March 22, igij 

86 



IN AND OUT OF TOWN 



BOOT AND SHOE SHINES 

When calfskin shoe-legs were in prime, 

'Fore and after Sixty, 
Then "gents" got rid of grit or grime 

By boot shine-ups, fixt, see ! 



Bright, bare-foot, black-hide boys of Ham 
With box and brush, quickly. 

Knelt down at side-walk, curb or jamb, 
To rub stiff boots, slickly. 



" Let 's black y'ur boots an' make 'em shine," 
Said the dark sons, trickly; 

"An' only cos' a-half a dime" — 

Five-cent coin, dropt thickly. 



High boots went out, low shoes came in, 
With lace-strings — weak, sickly ; 

Both black and white lads brusht for "tin" 
By shoe-shines — sleek, " chicly." 



87 



IN AND OUT OF TOWN 



Young Gr-r-reeks got on the shoe-shine gr-r-round 

In Lancaster, gr-r-randly ; 
Their gr-r-rit took hold of shop at bound, 

For our nickels, bl-1-andly. 



New ways, apt work won growing trade 

As ne'er afore, rightly; 
Fresh shines and gloss to-day yield aid 

Per stray half dimes, sprightly. 



April 5. igij 



Vz^^iaBui (Pdis 



88 



IN AND OUT OF TOWN 



NOTES 

Pages 61-62. — The chief thought of "Gems for AH" came about one crisp Win- 
ter evening, when the writer was crossing over Penn Square, where, under 
large electric lights, myriads of pure white snow-flakes came gently down from 
upper gray darkness ; then scintillated briefly, like many-sided brilliants, 
making way for other wavering flakelets of still more sparkling character; 
covering, and shedding their temporary riches upon, all travelers alike. 

Pages 64-66. — In memory of a few activities of the nimblest dog the author 
ever met and watched. 

Pages 67-70. — A vivid and accurate account of some of the moving sights as 
witnessed, in season, "From My Front Window." 

Pages 71-74. — Could colony of cats themselves read this, their parading record 
(as also corroborated by inner circle of chronicler), they could not do other- 
wise than recognize how resolutely their favorite haunts and habits have 
been "given away." 

Pages 75-76. — Written for and read at the second annual re-union of the Lan- 
dis Family of Eastern Pennsylvania, at Lititz, August 3, 1912. 

Pages 77-78. — Composed for festive social session of the Lancaster Automobile 
Club, and read on lit-up lawn of the evening's host, Mr. Aaron B. Landis. 

Page 81. — The intent of this short poem is to literally portray the birth of an 
incoming year, as when the New -time Arrival arouses from suspended 
repose, at midnight, in and near-by the author's bed-chamber. 

Page 82. — Nature is a True Teacher, from any human view-point; and her lav- 
ish lessons will ever help pensive, pent-up persons, who, having healthy 
legs and lungs, can and should walk freely out from crowded apartments 
or thoroughfares, to watch the Eternal Worker's harmonizing handicraft 
upon all sides — utilizing structural processes here, leveling powers there, 
and modeling many useful, productive materials for man, everywhere. 

Pages 84-86. — Every American adult who was, at earlier period, a boy (or girl) 
of active perception, always at that time quickly noticed the Man with a 
Whip, and Boy or two behind his Wagon ; and thus took part in youthful 
Side-walk Sympathy for misused Horse. The boy felt stinging qualities of 
the lash on animal, by similar sensations on self or companion, from the 
unyielding man. 

Pages 87-88. — The shoe-shine business in this land never got much further ad- 
vanced than strapped-box, brush and blacking of the pavement colored-and- 
white polishers (if, here and there isolated stands were excepted), until the 
thrifty Greeks "got on the job"; and, since then, their rooms and build- 
ings have become revelations to shoe-shine industry. The author has no- 
ticed great eagerness of young Greek boys to learn English, in the same 
manner as do the German races, after locating here. 

89 




^wr 



Illilllllillillllilllillllllilllllliillilllilllillllilililllililllilliiilli 

EARLY I 
RHYTHM I 



Lancaster Lyrics 



FOREST FANCIES 

Beneath big branches, bending, 

Of eld and stately oak, 
My raptures are a-blending 

As If with fairy folk 
Speaking In faint whispers 

Of dim or fading past — 
Amid these breathing zephyrs 

Stray leaves are lightly cast. 

Here, by ope glade, a-gleaming, 

Where tendrils green abound, 
Am I, in fancies, dreaming — 

Idling on sward aground — 
Wrapt in transports, crestful, 

At wooded teemings, grand ; 
Fill'd with beauties, questful, 

Of Builder's forceful hand. 

Nigh forest oaks, a-growing, 

I love to ofttime roam ; — 
My fancy leaps, a-glowing. 

As of some fairer home 
Beyond the pale of place 

Where youthful pleasure lies — 
Bright, earth-free heights, of grace, 

With splendors of the skies. 
October i, 1880 Davy Derby 

93 



EARLY RHYTHM 



TO THE HIGH WHEEL 

The wheel ! The high, Hght-framed wheel ! 
With threaded spokes of silv'ry steel, 
And mirrored chime o' musical peal ; 
Thou rollest by, with faintest sound. 
O'er stretches free, of smoothest ground. 
Making a 'cyclist's heart rebound ! 



Fleeing vision — graceful, ideal — 
Seeming stately, so grandly real ! — 
Thy motion helpeth rider feel 
As if he were on airy wings, 
Or filmy, fairy-fashed things, 
Instead o' — saddle and sad springs ! 



September lo, 1883 



94 



EARLY RHYTHM 



KARL'S KISS 

The kiss Karl doth remember- 
'Twas just inside o' kitchen- 
Was stolen ; — and the slender 
Girl gave rifler a switchin' ! 



Sept €711 ber 20, i88j 



WINTER 'S HERE ! 

One night there came a chill blizzard, 
Right near ze dawn of another day ; 

It quite froze Fall's queer wind-gizzard 
Like brick form'd o' ze toughest clay ! 



November 20, i88j 



96 



EARLY RHYTHM 



LINES ON LIFE 

This life is full of free pleasures, 
Enslaved, too, its state of sad sins; 

A life where large, boasted treasures 
Are barely much else than bad "wins." 

To-day this life is all-smiling ; 

The mean-time may a-thrust strong tears ; 
The Future 's oft fondly beguiling 

Us front, with her lust for long years. 

'T is a life bent with many burdens, 

A place pack'd by gross pain and gloom; 

A life with gray, grasping guerdons 

That trend downward to dark'ning tomb. 

This life, by Some planned purpose, 
Dwells briefly for a few dream-days ; 

When Sleep, hope's Sweet, will usurp us. 
To soothe our weary souls with praise. 



February /, 18S4. 



97 



EARLY RHYTHM 



A LENGTHY NOVEL CONDENSED 

CHAPTER I 

A cheery talk, 
A pleasant walk, 

A bower; 
Around the stile, 
A moonlit smile : 

A flower ! 

CHAPTER n 

A minute's rest. 
As playful zest, 

Capricious ! 
A cherry lip. 
Aft kissing nip, 

Delicious ! 

CHAPTER HI 

Loving demand. 
She giveth hand. 

Ere stopping ; 
A second's pause, 
An ask'd-for cause : 

Pair popping ! 

98 



April /, 1884 



EARLY RHYTHM 
CHAPTER IV 

A further walk, 
To have short talk 

With papa; 
They quite agree, 
But yet must see 

Her mamma ! 

CHAPTER V 

Things all O. K., 
No long delay, 

A carriage ; 
T' another house 
He taketh spouse: 

By marriage ! 

CHAPTER VI 

He has a wife. 
But such a strife. 

Oh, Ever! 
She has a man 
Who do n't now fan. 

No, Never ! 

MORAL 

Dull men should heed 
This when they "need" 

A darling ; 
Slow maids might know 
What 's meant to "glow" 

As starling ! 

99 



EARLY RHYTHM 



WHEN "HE" FAILS 

'T is when he gets "spliced" to the modern belle, 
And she his purse doth valiantly assail, 

His property he then begins to sell, 
And in business doth finally fail. 



May 23, 1884 



WARM WORK 

And now the busy reaper-man 
Improves each sunny second, 

By gleaning grain, on gen'rous plan, 
'Thout thought o' time, as reckoned. 



June 27, 1884 



100 



May 2, 1884 



EARLY RHYTHM 

TO YOU, "VILLAGE VIGIL" 

Good-morning, villa watch, 

I see that you are out ; 
Dull night delays no dawn 

In tracking o'er lone route ; 
Your face is fresh and free. 

Clear voice as frankly right; 
Methinks your very form 

A-maketh all folk bright. 

"Vigil," friend, I tell you, 

And in the kindest way, 
Grandly you find welcome 

Whate'er the time of day; 
Your latest trav'ling dress 

Is surely trim and neat ; 
While ev'rything 'bout you 

Seems purely hard to beat. 

To-day, 't is now full year 

Since you first sped this way ; 
And I 'm real glad to hear 

That you have grown to stay ; 
So, village guard, for you. 

As each and ev'ry friend. 
Here 's greeting that 's " true blue 

Hope goal will be best end ! 

102 



EARLY RHYTHM 



Beautiful sentiments, like beautiful flowers, 
Brighten our life-ways, in loneliest hours. 



Autograph A/binn, 1884 



May 2, 1885 






MAY'S MANTLE 

'Mid new, bursting beauties, 
Nature wendeth her way. 

To view Springtime duties- 
Mature mantle for May. 



103 



EARLY RHYTHM 



NOTES 

Page 93. — Not a few large oak, chestnut and hickory trees at L,andisviUe and 
vicinity, forty and more years ago, are suggested by "Forest Fancies," one 
of the author's early literary effusions penned at age of eighteen. 

Page 94. — The "high" wheel, of original bicycle period, had its own fine and 
freakish features — among the latter, awkward "headers" being quite pro- 
lific. The writer rode first "ordinary " bicycle owned between Lancaster and 
Harrisburg, and became ardent advocate of 'cycling and "good roads" in 
local and national press, from the early eighties. 

Page 97. — Life is ever changeful and uncertain, while its happiest times are 
usually of limited or curtailed duration. As we go through this animate 
state, from its extremes of youth and age, there are daily evidences of 
downward tendencies to inevitable sepulchre ; yet, shining out of darkness, 
above all worldly shadows or apprehension, there is, in every enlight- 
ened human mind, always One Sure Ray of Hope, which keeps the faint- 
est spark of life aglow to its final passing from heart-kept sphere to opti- 
mistic, soulful spirituality. 

Pages 98-99. — Not all novels read alike, nor do they terminate the same. Where 
two hearts keep a-beating as one throughout their lives, the later days of 
twain ought naturally be among the best, if not, too, the brightest, of 
wedded experience. 

Page 102.— The Village Vigil was established in May, 1883, by the author ; 
and, after its second volume, was enlarged and published for another year 
by him, under head of The Landisville Vigil. 

104 



THE TIES I 
OF HOME I 

■■IliilllllllililllllillOllllllinillMllllilllilllillillHIIIilllillilllilllllli 



Lancaster Lyrics 



KATIE MUSSELMAN LANDIS 

Budding flowret, fair and sweet; 

Dear little Katie so blest ; 
Sometime we expect to meet 

In Glory, Peace and Rest. 



October 5, iSgi 



ALLEN BAKER LANDIS 

Like a star in Heaven above, 

The brightness of his face 
Made our Allen's infant love 

Shine with a winsome grace. 

October 6, i8gi D. B L 



107 



THE TIES OF HOME 




FATHER'S FRIENDLY FACE 

My father's form and face were fair 
To me, as boy and man, I 'm sure ; 

I ne'er felt fear near him, for there 
Were wishes true to me, and pure. 

His face was friendly all day long. 
Without pretense, or sordid show; 

His whistle clear, and helpful song. 

Were somewhere near, as one could know. 

Each guest who came to visit him. 
Was gladly greeted, with free hand ; 

For none found father gruff or grim — 

His acts were facts both good and grand ! 

A face like this was full of life — 
It beamed its best in busy ways ; 

And joyful jests were ever rife 

From him, to end of earthly days. 

108 



THE TIES OF HOME 

Few folks, perhaps, were ever blest 
With parent quite like this, my own; 

I Ve felt that father's fate did rest 
In his best hopes for kindred known. 

Now, while I can no longer meet 
The ready hand, or steady form, 

May I not see, in mem'ry sweet, 
A friendly face with features warm ? 



Fcbniary 21, igiz 



109 



THE TIES OF HOME 




MOTHER'S FLOWERS: A MEMORY 

When mem'ry brings my mother near 
Again, as in Hfe's blessed hours 

At village home, 't is then her dear 

Love beams forth, like treasur'd flowers. 

With busy hands and watchful care, 

Scarce seeds, choice bulbs she well planted 

And nurs'd from mold to warming air 
Where tendrils grew, full free, a-slanted. 

Her floral-beds were all kept bright 
Close by house-wall or vine-edges ; 

And richest colors swept the sight 
About silk-green, sunlit hedges. 

Pert pansies tried, with plastic pride 
Of winsome face, to thus coquet 

One from fair "posies" at their side, 
As, crimson roses for soubrette. 



110 



THE TIES OF HOME 

The coxcombs held gay heads up high 
Like chantic fowl, clear for crowing ; 

While daisies deftly dwelt, close by, 
With dainty, classic charms a-showing. 

The cluster'd crowns of lilacs, sweet — 
The purpled flags — the buds a-blooming- 

The fragrant fronds — were mother's treat 
In flower-time, while tall pluming. 

When Fall winds found the tangled ferns. 
And tore away late, faded flow'rs. 

Then mother put some plants in urns 
Or pots, to cheer our jaded hours. 

Thus, through the growing, passing years, 
Where former field has gone, forever. 

My mind is free from massing fears — 
Mother's flowers yet yield, ever ! 



November 24, igi2. 



Ill 



THE TIES OF HOME 



CHRISTMAS CAKES 



Fresh Christmas cakes give good, crisp cheer 
When they come forth, just once a year; 
And, young or old folks think them best 
Of all bak'd cakes — these beat the rest. 

When mother made her cakes, so great. 
Their moulded forms were right to date ; 
They tasted fine and kept us quiet, 
A-left each free from duller diet. 

The baking time o' each December 
Was pretty prime, as we remember; 
Rare kitchen odors, always tempting. 
None could resist without relenting. 

We all lik'd cakes, whate'er their kind, — 
The ginger bread, e'en lemon rind ; 
Square cakes, round ones, odd shapes or sort,- 
Each cake was ate with zest and sport. 

In later years, when fully grown. 

And living now at newer throne. 

With wife and children — bless each chum — 

Again the Christmas cakes have come ! 

112 



THE TIES OF HOME 



Making and baking things have chang'd 
Somewhat as styles or sizes are rang'd ; 
Though, yet, the same rich cakes are here. 
When Christmas comes, at close of year. 



Light, catchy cakes, free folk can tell, 
Are just the same, in sight and smell ; 
There is small turn that they do note, — 
For, do n't each cake go down some throat ? 



True friends may come and moreover go. 
And worldly gods may cease to grow; 
Sweet Christmas cakes greet fair home shrine, 
For children's sake — they get them, fine ! 



Dcceiuher 20, igii 



113 



THE TIES OF HOME 



THE PIES I PRIZE 

The pies that I propose to eat 

Are those to prize ; 
When bak'd real neat, they are a treat — 

Good in them lies ! 

There 're many makes of pies in town 

That one can gain ; 
The kind I like are crisp and brown — 

Prociuce no pain ! 

The pies, by test, I love the best 
Are rich and rare ; 

They 're fresh and hot, and reach the spot- 
None can compare ! 

My pious friends with pieish taste 

Should view this verse : 
Shun pies built bad, in haste and waste — 

To make one worse ! 

Let 's brighter be, 'twixt thee and me. 

And lunch on pies ; 
Let 's live and see tarts fine and free — 

To bless the skies ! 



114 



THE TIES OF HOME 

Let 's dine on pies with dimples, pure, 

Where juices flow ; 
Let 's learn to prize the sort that 's sure — 

To have good dough ! 

At last you ask. What brand of pies 

I seek the most ? 
That 's tame to tell, where truth just lies — 

Three tip this host ! 

Th' cherry (or berry), pumpkin and mince- 
Gee, what a great lot ! 

They please my palate wi' nary a wince — 
Further I prate not ! 



December 26, igii 



115 



THE TIES OF HOME 



OWED (ODE) TO LANDISVILLE 

Where is the fairest town to-day 
In Pennsylvania's valleys, wide ? 
Let 's tritely trill: 
There can no cleaner place display 

Such handsome homes, with public pride, 
Than Landisville ! 

Chorus : 

Fair Landisville ! Clean Landisville ! 
The town that 's true to civic will — 
Lov'd Landisville ! 

Long since, whence forests vastly stood 

Where church and camp-ground now are seen, 
The German will 
Wrought changes in the oak-bound wood, 
And planted plenty on the green. 
Past " Centreville." 

Forefathers built their houses strong 

With tough trim'd timbers from big farms ; 
Their labors thrill 
Later lads, and lighter lasses throng 
Close to the sainted spots, with charms, 
Near Landisville ! 



116 



THE TIES OF HOME 

The old is gone, the new has come ! 
The rugged roads are worn away 
With wondrous skill ! 
The streets and side-walks all have some 
Bright blessings now, at this late day, 
In Landisville ! 



Hail ! to the richest rural space 
Near Susquehanna's reaches, rare ! 
Hearts gladly fill 
With hope ; and grateful words we trace 
For Hempfield's honest sons, so square, 
At Landisville ! 



February 26, igi2 



118 



THE TIES OF HOME 



MY HEMPFIELD HOMES 



LANDISVILLE 



On Lincoln-day, in Sixty-two, 

At Landisville, an humble view 

Of sextette homes, near Hempfield hills. 

Was destined me, midst war-time thrills. 



Full fifty years have pass'd away 
Since I once there saw peep o' day; — 
Spare tenth this time to sweetly roam 
At my birth-place, in parents' home. 



Gray grandma, good, next door did dwell- 
To her I could child "troubles" tell; 
With snow-white cap, in lace so old. 
She seemed to me like trace of gold. 



These first four years, near forebear's land. 
Where father drummed for village Band, 
Are clustered close to mem'ry's sight ; 
And I can ne'er remove them, quite. 



119 



THE TIES OF HOME 



CENTREVILLE 



Where long "The Owl" and "Rising Sun" 
Their tavern signs had trav'lers won — 
And mother, dear, dwelt twice at place — 
Two boyhood years were mine to trace. 

This fruitful farm, on Hempfield high, 
Had clever charms, for me to try ; — 
Running "Rover" oft swiftly sped 
Aft browsing cows, in clover red. 

In autumn's haze, when days were short, 
My father joined in boyish sport ; 
And down the hills we sped, together. 
On home-made sled, in wintry weather. 

Not far away, to school I went, 
In Sixty-seven — with wisdom bent ; — 
On benches long, built plain and well, 
I tried to learn — to write and spell. 

ROHRERSTOWN 

The next three years, in Hempfield down 
To eastern shire, at Rohrerstown, 
Were spent some most delightful days 
'Mongst boyhood mates with winning ways. 

120 



THE TIES OF HOME 

The rolling mill was in "full blast," 

And "good times" throve while they did last! 

Then father sold confections, sweet, 

And these, I own, were wholesome treat. 

The low frame house of single story, 
In Sixty-nine, was in full glory; 
And Rohrerstown had rural fame 
For peace and plenty to its name. 

Its narrow streets and trade-shops, small. 
Were worthy spots to each and all ; — 
In Nineteen twelve, how changed the scene ! 
Now trolleys trail by lawns kept green ! 

RUNNING PUMP 

Eighteen seventy, in fall of year. 

By " Running Pump," full mile due west, 

My father bought land-tract, quite clear. 
And built his house, close highway crest. 

At age of nine, in Seventy-one, 

For but twelve months, there we thriv'd well 
The fertile fields rare riches won ; — 

Fourth Hempfield home brief hist'ry tell. 



122 



THE TIES OF HOME 

I lov'd to loll in new-mown hay, 

Thro' Summer's sun when days were calm ; 
And mix'd light work or mirthful play, 

With sister's song, on this small farm. 

From Chestnut Hill, north of child-place. 
Fair scenes spread out to Manor's meads;— 

E'en Winter's chill wrought its wild grace 
With sweeping winds 'cross snapping weeds. 

SALUNGA 

Contraction straight from Indian source, 
"Salunga" folks trace its renown; 

And East or West, true Hempfield's course 
Tricks through the Chiqua-bordered town. 

From Seventy-two, near Seventy-five, 
I linked my state with village store ; 

And learned to watch plain people strive 
On near-by farms, their wealth to score. 

Where one-time there was not a church. 
Now at this time, there are found three ; 

Whence two hotels held forth to lurch 
Weak men — these, too, are shut, you see ! 



124 



THE TIES OF HOME 



Salunga, thus, is on strong map, — 
For railway tracks and trolley roads, 

Or turnpike streets, now vastly lap 
Its environs, and bear its loads, 

BAMFORD 

At Hempfield's heart, nigh Snapper Creek, 
My parents moved, in Seventy-five, 

To a new home, with store-trade thick; 

And Bamford grew — then ceased to thrive. 

The zinc works there were brisk and big. 
And mines and men were on the go ; 

While furnace flames and crushing jig 
Kept things a-hustling, high and low. 

My last school days, so grand and good. 

At Independence I dici spend ; 
And youthful plays, near hillside wood. 

Gave gladsome joys, clean to their end. 

Oh ! Hempfield homes, my hearthstone shrines ! 

How sweet thy hopes and pure thy dreams ! 
While life shall last, may I, in lines, 

Extol thy hills and praise thy streams ! 

March 2j, igi2 

126 



THE TIES OF HOME 



CHRISTMAS WAKING 

It 's Christmas morn. Pa 's in repose, 

At pillow'd place, with head. 
Ere chilly dawn, ears bare disclose 
Faint footsteps near warm bed — 
Softly they go. 
Steady and slow — 
A boyish face peers at bright clock ; 
'T is scarcely five; when, there's light shock 



The tower'd bells of Christ 're waking. 

With pealing waves of joy ! 
Pa 's waking, too ; his heart 's quaking — 
Nerves shaking — just as boy ! 
Greeting his child, 
Speaking — both wild 
With delight that Night's near worn, 
A-flight by bells at Christmas morn ! 



To resting room of maid in dreams, 
Near hall at head of stair. 

Our restless lad his sister gleans 
Sight of, and wakes, aware ! 

127 



THE TIES OF HOME 



Jumping with joy, 

Bumping, this boy 
Leads father's steps adown dark space 
To living parts, with eager pace ! 



A brilliant blaze of light appears. 
Tall cedar tree spreads out ; 
The bustling chap bursts into cheers 
At Santa's trap to rout 
Wishes o'er due — 
Payments put thru' 
With glitt'ring gifts for watchful lad 
Now weighted down and made glad ! 



December 28, igr? 



128 





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A Christmas Tree, Nineteen Hundred and Twelve 



THE TIES OF HOME 



DUO BIRTHDAY SONNETS 

A. L. 

Four more than hundred years a babe was born 
In humble hut, by wooded land and seam; 
Kentucky, then, was wild ; each cliff, e'en stream. 
Of hers set forth bold, hardy claim; sharp thorn 

Held sway thro' tangled tracks; this wintry morn 
Awoke to witness act of wondrous deed 
From holy wisdom: Hardin County's seed 
Astart to clear the chains of slaves— adorn 

Its seat in after age with honored fame; 
For Nation's freedom from shadow'd spot; 
As added glory to an honest name. 

Few lives have lent or given nobler lot 
Than Lincoln's, as a servant-savior's aim, 
To leave with human kind no shackl'd blot. 



130 



THE TIES OF HOME 



D. L. (Feb. 12) 

This birthday sonnet shares a dual part; 

Its music moves, in living tones, thro' rhyme 

A-writ by one who, here in his best time, 

Is blest with health and hope ; whose happy heart 

Lifts up a lyric song of welling chime ! 

Some scenes, good friends, from him are far apart ; 
While others e'er are close within warm reach ! 
The times far gone and those near hand, sublime. 

Have held their homely, splendid share of each ! 
The present hours are full and pure with joy 
From pleasant powers ; all these freely teach 

Fresh truths for better service ; thus to buoy 
Faint burdens of the day; by paeans preach 
A broader, boundless faith beyond alloy ! 

January 26, igij 



131 



THE TIES OF HOME 



NOTES 

Page 107. — Two lovely children of author were stricken with diphtheria, the 
first year his family resided at 38^2 East Chestnut Street, and passed 
quickly away within little more than a Fall day on dates appended to re- 
spective verses, written a few months later. 

Pages 108-109. — Father's clear-formed character was fairly reflected in his con- 
stantly generous disposition ; and those who knew him best will bear out 
the son's faithful delineation and permanent tribute to a parent's pleasing 
personality. 

Pages iio-iii. — Mother had a marvellous knowledge of Nature's vegetation and 
flowers ; and, in her be.st home-making years, she had green yard and near- 
by garden growing a-full with God's fashions of his visible kingdom on 
earth ; part of which flora she liberally transplanted indoors and took loyal 
care of throughout less hardy seasons. 

Pages 112-115. — Good living is one of Lancaster County's "cards," while her 
cooks and bakers are blessings to every household within her inviting bor- 
ders. The author adds versic testimony to well-made local pastry, with 
assurance of genuine inspiration from years of rational epicurean experience. 

Pages 116-118. — The reader when noting query, "Where is the fairest town to- 
day in Pennsylvania's valleys, wide?" will assuredly voice assent to answer 
of " Landisville," revered home-ground of composer's direct ancestors, 
whose former farms are being absorbed by the thriving community. Prior 
to its first post-oflice, this settlement was called "Centreville," from fact of 
its lying equa-distant between Lancaster and Mount Joy. 

Pages 1 19-126. — This descriptive epic gives varied history, in simple language, 
of the author's six boyhood homes in East and West Henipfield town- 
ships — every locality leaving its own splendid impress upon rejuvenated 
memory. 

Pages 127-.28. — A thrilling interpretation of awakening in the author's happy 
little household on Christmas morning — quickening more than any single 
event tbroughout each year. 

Pages 130-131. — In closing these pardonably personal "Ties of Home," the duo 
sonnets alluding to birthdays of our Nation's most sacrificing and humble 
character, Lincoln, and of later-favored writer, should not be found unworthy 
of discriminating indulgence and interest. 

132 



PERTINENT 
VERSICLES 



Lancaster Lyrics 



HOW ABOUT THIS? 

The man who spitteth on clean floor, 
Or faileth oft to shut front door, — 
Should please not do thus any more, 
On pain of being put with bore 

Whom we do n't altogether like. 



Noveiiiber 5, igoz 



FAST AND SLOW 

When we are young (and "swung") 
We do odd things (with "springs"); 
When we are old (less "bold"). 
We rue such days (and "ways"). 

May 10, 190J D. B. L. 



135 



PERTINENT VERSICLES 



I PERSPIRE— YOU SWEAT? 

When I perspire, 

And feel a -fire, 

The cutic-glands 
Of halting hands 

Seemeth as steam ! 

When you do sweat, 

And get so wet 

With labor's toll, 
Don't you just boll 
Like hot water ? 



August 9, igo6 



HOW WOULD YOU LIKE TO TAKE MY PLACE ? 

How would You like to take My place ? — 

It's a very good place for me; 
You might do more in th' daily race. 

And perhaps not so much, you see ! 

My place, sometimes, is quite chock-full. 

Then, again, 't is easy enough ; 
And you, maybe, could readily pull 

Thro' things that are to me quite tough. 

April 8, igio 

136 



PERTINENT VERSICLES 



MOSES 

Dare vas un oldt mon, callt Moses, 
Vot didt soldt all kindt uf clothses ; 

His brices vas sheep, 

Unt cretit dog steep 
On ac-fow-nt uf his pig, broadt noses. 



April 2S, igio 



ALL ABOARD ! 

Right cheery be on lea or land, 
With clouded sky, or sunlight, grand ; 
You 'II safely seek somewhere to stand 
Where happy hosts will grasp your hand. 



December i8, igri 



B 



A PRESCRIPTION 

Take a dose of kind feeling and lots of mirth, 
And mix them right freely and truly ; 

Not a dope can be better, on this dull earth, 
To boost up one's blues when unruly. 

Decetuher /8, rgrr 

137 



PERTINENT VERSICLES 



A BOOSTER 

The biggest booster 

S Is a /ive rooster ! 

yt For, as he crows, 

His boosting grows 
From tip of toes 
To throat and nose. 

The bravest booster 

Is a big rooster ! 

His language flows 
Where'er he goes, 
To friends or foes, 
As each one knows. 



February 22, Tgi2 



January S, igi2 



FIVE TIMES TEN 

Five tens are fifty, say ? — 

Yes, that is surely so ! 
Twice fifty, hundred, eh ? — 

True, as you fully know ! 
When fifty, tens tell five ; 

Well and wisely stated ! 
Ten tens in hundreds thrive ; 

Just as nicely slated ! 

138 



May /, igT2 



PERTINENT VERSICLES 



QUEER BUT DEAR 

The day dawns dull and dreary — 
The sun seems sad and weary — 
The clouds creep by, less clearly; 
Yet — lad and lass love dearly ! 



WEARY WEATHER WISDOM 

When the weather 's dreary, 
While your body 's weary. 
Then try to be so cheery 

That none can scout a change. 

E'en when the sun is shining. 
Some hearts may be repining 
And bend their backs defining 
Dark truck that 's out of range. 

I never yet 
Could see the use 

To ever fret 
Like silly goose. 



August I/, rg/2 



139 



PERTINENT VERSICLES 



DON'T DO IT 

Art e'er inclined to work a wrong ? 
Don't do it. 
'T is better now to hesitate, 
Before the deed doth circulate 
Among the masses and the throng ; 
Taboo it I 



August 77, Tg/2 



August ig, igT2 



ONE, TWO, THREE! 

The first girl he won 
When but twenty-one ; 
The second mate, new, 
While near thirty-two ; 
The third wife, we see, 
Whirls in 't forty-three. 

This is marrying 
Without tarrying ! 



140 



PERTINENT VERSICLES 



TOO MUCH OF IT 

Some poets, they polish and refine so much, 
There 's small part left but lean bones ; 

They scrape away flesh from English or Dutch, 
And finish their scraping with stones — 

Keen polishing stones 
To abolish the bones ! 



August 2j, igr2 



SHIRT WAISTS 

There are shirt waists 
Without dirt wastes, 

And wasted shirts 
For waisted dirts ; 
Some waisted shirts 
See wasted dirts, 
As shirted waists 
Hide dirtied wastes 1 



August 24, Tgi2 



141 



PERTINENT VERSICLES 



LEARNING AND EARNING 

When Lester is learning, 
His father is earning 

The cold cash of this land ! 
His mother is churning ; 
And sister is burning 

The gas, to catch Al's hand ! 

Now Lester is earning, — 
While father is burning 

Cigarros to chase the band ! 
Cute sister is yearning, — 
And mother is learning 

That Al 's just caught her, grand ! 



August 20, Tgi2 



HERE AND NOW 

Right here and now is your own time 
To grandly drill each goodly deed ; 

The best that 's in this day is prime 
To plant for people in their need. 



August 29, I()I2 

142 



PERTINENT VERSICLES 



NEW LIFE 

A man, who waited long in life, 
Bethought himself to win a wife, 

Since ill content 

Him wishes lent. 

This fellow found a vent at last — 

His fallow funds he spent so fast 

That "chic Sue" smil'd 

At slick "new child"— 



They quick grew wild ! 



August 22, igi2 



THE TINY THINGS 

A grain of sand is surely small, 
Yet it doth fill its perfect place; 

A blade of grass is scarcely tall. 

But it doth breast the sward with grace. 

Full many a star is kept by day 

To shine, like gem, in deepest night; 

A thought from thee speedeth away 
To other spheres beyond thy sight. 

Aiio}(sl 2Q, igi2 



143 



PERTINENT VERSICLES 

MISS SWEETLY 

Lithe Miss Sweetly 
Flits down streetly, 
With fine feetly ; 
She 's built neatly, 
Can't be beatly, 
Let 's her greetly ! 

Oh, how meekly 
She does speakly; 
Glad to meetly ; 
Let 's go treatly 
Blithe Miss Sweetly — 

A-with What ? 
Soda, Hot ! 



September 14, igi2 



October 5. rgr? 



WHEN UP OR DOWN 

When you are down. 
Do as apt clown : 

Bob up ^t bo""^ 
From off ^he ground. 

When you are up, 

Do as bred pup: 

Squat down to eat 
The best q£ j^eat 

144 



PERTINENT VERSICLES 



October 26, rgi2 



SHORT, BUT SWEET 

Pure maiden's blushes, red, 

Are rosebuds, sweet — 

In bloom ; 

Fair manhood's wishes wed 

Rare, fleeting treat — 

Or doom ! 



FIND THE FLAW 

If you are failing some. 
Or blue and ailing — glum — 
Just "boo" the jailing Bum 
Till new tho'ts sailing come 



November iS, igi2 



145 



PERTINENT VERSICLES 



WHY, "PLUCK"? 

One time a Man took Me to task, 
And, then and there, some test did ask, 
To trick a tho't, so that no mask 
Of truck 
Might suck 
Odd luck:— 
PFhy, '' Pluck"? 

Now, hear me hit dull head, or cask. 
Of him who had weak heart to bask 
Near home, where he could hoist a flask 
Dear Duck, 
My Pluck 

Leads Luck 
A -muck ! 



Jajniary 6, igij 



146 



PERTINENT VERSICLES 



My Land, of limpid streams, 
Swiss heights, grand slopes ; 

Thy Band loves toil, 'mid dreams- 
Bliss flights, and hopes ! 



January i, igij 



QUICK DECISION 

A well-built chap, who wisht a "snap," 

Beheld an ad. short time 
In paper space, where "Wanted" scrap 
Was put at 10 c. per line, 
And he. 
With glee. 
Decided to "git" it. 

The work went "hard," the days dwelt long; 

The "snap"— it felt not "soft"; 
To shake his job, this chap's swan-song 
Was apt, so very oft, 
To be 
Quite free, 
Decided, to "quit" it. 

January //, rgrj 

148 



PERTINENT VERSICLES 



FORESEE GOATEE 

Never say No, in despair; 
Clever may grow chin affair ! 
Ever lay low — skin ensnare! 
Sever ? Nay, grow ! Win whate'er 

Spare 

Hair 

Pair 

There 



February /, 79/j 



SIMILARITY 

To illustrate some likelihood — 
Or understand same sisterhood — 

Of simile sounds, 
Do advocate sane attitude — 
Nor countermand vain gratitude — 

Near female grounds: 

Tell 's what th' matter is with Hannah. 

Ah ! equal name 
Spells back- and forward, e'er, H-a-n-n-a-h 

For sequel fame ! 

February /, igjj 

1-49 



PERTINENT VERSICLES 

THEY SPELL AND ARE THE SAME 

We find that Snakes are Sneaks — 
Whim-kind of fakes and freaks, 
Which wind at brakes, nigh teaks — 
Will blind fat drakes, by tweaks — 

Crawl in streaks, 
Fall to creeks ; 
Sprawl from peaks. 
Stall at shrieks ! 



Febniary j, igij 



VIVE VALENTINE ! 

Fair Youth will grow 

With heart a-glow 
When missive hastes, by mail, to him 

From Maid of grace — 

Whose form and face 
Fill blissful fates a-full to brim ! 

Coy Maid doth pose 
Pink cheeks, as rose. 

When Valen Tine his dart hath cast 
Clear to her breast — 
Pure Love's cloy test — 

Sure, blushing sign, while heart shall last ! 

February lo, igij 

150 



PERTINENT VERSICLES 



PROFICIENCY 

To trust in thy efficiency, 

A meet, effective agency 
Thee must pin : Try proficiency, — 

And treat progressive stages, — see 



Febriiary 22, igij 



LO, IT 'S CLEVER ! 

No, 'tis never o'er late to learn 
New stuff in life ; 

Woe is ever sore fate. Do spurn 
Blue-buff ; win wife ! 
March /, igij 



KINDLY WIN THEM 

Heap full, all hostile crowns, with fav'ring cheer. 
Aft these wreak forth their worst ; 

You '11 win them yet to friendship's ways, so clear, 
When they sneak from what 's curst. 

Scptcviber 20, igij 

151 



PERTINENT VERSICLES 



NOTES 

Paares 135-136. — These, and similar, pertinent versicles are product of close ob- 
servation by author, in his customary business and civic activities. 

Page 137. — The tenor of "All Aboard," "A Prescription," etc., is toward neigh- 
borly cheerfulness. These little verses are forerunners of j'ct others, equallj- 
pleasant in feeling and expression. 

Page 138. — As undaunted and successful booster, from average view-point, noth- 
ing excels a real large, robust rooster; consequently his position is prop- 
erly placed at top of page, where his chanticleric form can be seen to 
full advantage. 

Page 138. — "Five Times Ten" tabulates off-hand verselet for an own fiftieth 
birth-tide dinner program, on Lincoln-day, 1912. 

Pages 142-143. — "The Tiny Things," after all, are intrinsically worth any one's 
while, from writer's interpretation; as, also, "Here and Now" is our pro- 
pitious time to settle personal accounts of more or less perplexing detail. 

Pages 144-145. — The various versicles pertaining to "opposite sex," as placed in 
this section of volume, show vivid appreciation of their virtual charms ; 
with man's natural penchant for bantering at prevailing foibles or fashions. 

Page 146. — Pluck recalls a former periodical published by author; and its cour- 
ageous spirit is still tacked to well-known trade title of attractive printery. 

Page 151. — A favorite term, used by an old acquaintance, was to ''Kill them 
(distracters) with kindness." The wiiter embodies that same basic idea in 
"Kindly Win Them," so as to avoid actual slaughter — which savors rather 
acutely of wretched warfare. 

152 



DIALECTIC 
BALLADS 



iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii 



Lancaster Lyrics 



DOT BELLY! 

Ven dinner 's ofer und I gits oup 

Vrom py mine blace at der tables, 
Mit stummick full uf meat und zoup ; 
Dot 's de dime I 's hartly ables — 
It 's too schnelly 
For mine belly ! 

De goot tings looged so vary nize, 
Ven I sits down ter dat fat feest, 
Dot I shoost fress'd four punken pies; 
Und now I feels, vrom vest to y-east, 
Os eef jelly 
Jarr'd mine belly I 

I dakes a valk arount der house 

Dwenty dimes ; och ! der pains inside — 
Dot ish, inside mine mittles — souse 
Mit misery ! Los mich doch hide 
Dot hot helly 
In mine belly ! 

May 4, igi2 ■ D. B. L. 

155 



DIALECTIC BALLADS 



'MOBUBBLE TRUBBLE 

Mine automobubbles 

Makes me so mooch trubbles 

MIdt der motion. 
Somedimes I couldt scolt like 
Dutchman, und 'em all hike 

Indo de ocean ! 



You zee, ven I dit bawt dese 
Bod'rsum, bloomin' mashee's, 

Dey moofs gwickly. 
Py gosh ! he buffs ant she balks 
Down sthreets un' ofer sitevalks 

S' vary schlickly ! 

Yusht dink, de oder day, fine, 
Ven I sthruck on a bee line 

For de tea-poe. 
To ketch der "flyer," kerflop; 
Dot awdo he could n't sthop — 

Hidt a key-hole ! — 

156 



DIALECTIC BALLADS 

At dot hotel-blace klose py ; 

Und chinks, oxcitement vent high ! 

Ein perleesman 
He help'd to ubset de awdo 
'Bout aroundt, ash he ought to, 

Like tu blease von. 

I tanks him, dot plue-coat — 
Und cranks 'im, d' awdogote — 

Till she chuggles ; 
She schnorts like she 's crazes. 
Make me madder 'n blaces, 

Und den buckles ! 

Short sthops, von't go, axts kweer, 
Os eef she souf'd sour beer; 

I 'm dumb-lost-ed ! 
I yanks her, ant sphanks her, 
Und kicks her — sphits at her, 

Till hex-hawsted ! 

Poof-oof ! choog-ug ! chuger-uf ! 
Chimeny, how she chatters-oof ! 

I 'm de showfer 
For shure fer dis gondrivance, 
Midout foolish cornivance — 

She 's no schlow-car 1 

157 



May 7, igi2 



DIALECTIC BALLADS 

Mackadum pike I like, 
Awdo zoon it duz sthrike — 

We speed like zin — 
Unt, vot vas dot hissen' 
Hinnernous, like kissen' ? 

Weel busted in ! 

Mit a lodt of ott dools, 
Vile I swets like olt fools, 

I patches her; 
Pump her. Dot 'mobubbles 
She make me such trubbles 

To matches her ! 

I drots her home mit haste, 
Haf no eggstra dime to vaste, 

To der gar-rodge ; 
I dink, somedimes, I '11 sell 
Dot 'mobubble ride veil 

Shoost fer gar-bodge ! 



158 



DIALECTIC BALLADS 



ZANI-DAIRY EF-FISH-UNCY 

Ef-fish-uncy now hash mate dis lant 

So vary zani-dairy ash t' be gwlte grandt ; 

Dey milks de kows mid pyzickle pumps, 

Und dyenomides trees " clean" oud dere sthumps. 

I dinks dese gloryus Unided Sthates 
Ish sthrickly yusht ride ub tu dates ; 
Ve gets ter dust after, unt dot durt 
Mid wackyum gleaners like grate sphurt. 

Ve haf bath-dubs in efery man's house 
To vosh himself mit, besites his spouse ; 
Der chillders, tew, dake dere daily svim, 
Vile pussies und buppies vill pudtle im. 

Garbage ve puts in pails midt lids 
Dat fall off swish ven dogs chace kids ; 
De sight off fish-heads moch mich gronk, 
Unt knocks der sphots vrom all mine sphunk. 

Der sthreets are swept oup mooch midt dust, 
Undt " whide-vings " help ter schrape de crust, 
Vile sphrinklers dey sphlash left unt rite — 
Sum peobles oil frondt roadts fer sphite ! 

159 



DIALECTIC BALLADS 

Der wawter Is fildtered frum ids mudt, 
Unt alum is meexed tu dhin der bloodt ; 
Dot germs vonce von didt trink und ead — 
Py gosh ! musht all gone get midt spheed. 

Polyticks, yah ! ef-lish-untly grows 
Graft 'bout unser zani-dairy nose; 
Der boss dot mosheens manages yedt — 
Fergess dass nicht, du kanst yetz bedt ! 

Ter butchers' meadts musht be froce sthiff 
So 't don't meldt off wid de furst biff; 
Und sossage 'nd puddens 'nd tripe 
Shood pe zani-dairy ash a schmoke-pipe. 

Yuse may vants tu know vot else iss 
Goot ven zani-dairy ? Dot kindt 's a kiss 
Midt a maitel hoos libps are wine redt 
Ash ribe roses at cheeks py her headt. 

Yu, alzo, may vants to findt oud von blan 
Ef-fish-unt, zani-dairy fer efery man. 
Och, du lieber ! Dot 's de fine offishuncy 
Ve 've godt olredty, ollygondt sowfeeshency I 

May r8, igi2 

160 



DIALECTIC BALLADS 



CULLUD WEDDIN' CHEER 

I 'se gwine ter tell yer w'at, 
Ase d' sun am shinen' hot, 
Happen' long 'go on dis spot 
Befo' de wah, in 'Ginny. 

Mammy cooks in cabin, 
Daddy keeps ah blabbin'. 
Big times dey 're hab'n 
Wid kinky piccuninny, 

Ruth cum heah frum weddin' ; 
Jis' feel lik' I 's tellin' 
How de kittle 's smellin' 
Wif de whites' possum. 

Jaspah, dat 's Ruth's husben' — 
Shu-ah, she did luvs 'im — 
Cum 'long, ase I druv 'em 
Hum fro' cullud pawson. 

Jule and Gawge, an' t' others, 
Eb'ry sister 'n brudders, 
Gadered 'roun' der mudder's 
An' fader's cabin door, 

162 



DIALECTIC BALLADS 

Roun' de table settin', 
De fam'ly jist all guessin' 
Wat 's tu foUer blessin' 
Fo' Gawd to sabe de po'r. 



W'ite fo'ks git dere turkey, 
Brack fo'ks tinks jis' murky; 
Possum dinnah 's jerky 

Fer niggah stummic's sake. 



Hoe cakes, 'lasses candy. 
Mixed wif 'Tucky brandy. 
Jis' cum in suh handy 
Ter gif uh belly-ache. 



But, boss, we wus jolly; 
Soon we shoutid, "Golly!' 
Danced de pain wif folly 
On woodin, polish' flo'r. 



De rain splash' at lo' windah, 
De fiah flung up sum cindah, 
De lightnin' struck hi' timbah; 
De stohrm — it tare 'nd tore ! 

163 



DIALECTIC BALLADS 

Den we shuffled closer, 
Sang ole hymns lik' Moser 
To tunes o' Heben ober, 
Till de sun he pop out I 



Mammy waltz wid daddy, 
Ruth 'nd Jasp. trip glad'y, 
Jule 'nd Gawge bob bad'y — 
De banjo strings dey shout i 



Jis' den neighbo' Ristus 
Gits right in wif Mistus, 
An' fo'ks dance *til blistus 
Bu'n soles ob wa'msom' feet. 



De banjo keeps a-toonin*, 
Jasp. an' Ruth am spooning 
An' de dawk eyes 're foolin* 
Ole and y'ung nigses, sweet. 



I tell yer, boss, dat dinna', 
Long 'go heah in 'Ginnah, 
T'eched my soul lik' sinna' 
At eb'ry step I take. 

164 



DIALECTIC BALLADS 

Wile de hot time lasted, 
Shua we diden't fasted, — 
Cloud' days dey wus blastid 
Fer dis fambly's sake. 



Now, boss, dat night d' w'iskey 
Mak' Ristus jis' to' frisky; 
Hit Mistus 'til she 's lispy 
An' don' plum' on de stobe. 



Jaspah grabs Ristus' collah, 
Choked 'im 'til he hollo' ; 
Gawge at de bof did folio'. 
Wile Mammy at 'em drobe. 



Sich mix-up, boss, I nevah 
Saince ma bo'n days 'd evah 
See wif coon squint, clevah — 
De cabin wus ah sight I 



We patch'd up wif mo' w'iskey; 
De banjo hinged so brisk'y 

165 



June i8, Tgi2 



DIALECTIC BALLADS 

Till all de fo'ks fult crispy — 
Weddin' obah fo' de night ! 



Dat, boss, w'at did happen 
Ware Dixie dawg is yappin', 
Neah de brack cat nappin' 
At opin cabin doah. 



Dis chile feels lik' smilen', 
Wen weddin' cheer wus bilin' 
An' cullud chaps kap' pilen' 
'Way up, befo' de wah 1 



166 



DIALECTIC BALLADS 



AB'S FILOSOFY AT TH' FOURTH 

Uv all th' days in each ding year, 
Ther 's none so blazin' like an' queer 
Ez Uncle's Fourth one in July — 
Gosh ! how its heated glories fry ! 



Them boys o' mine are all awake 
Afore old Sol his scorchers take ; 
An' you may bet yer boots, er mine, 
Them kids '11 cut up capers, fine ! 



Adeown the street, in Centre Square, 
At six er'clock, ter be quite fair, 
The city guards are shooten' guns — 
Hooray fer Lancasterian sons ! 



Sweet liberty we luv ter shout, 
Ther same our daddies bro't erbout ; 
An' sane er safe folks all agree 
Ez Uncle Sam should lightly spree ! 

167 



DIALECTIC BALLADS 



When bells begin to swing, at seven, 
Great gosh ! my heart is jest in heaven 
Ther' swells sech dear, delightful tunes 
Ter reach ter Mars er fer-off moons ! 



The fact'ry pipes the'r whistles blow, 
An', actu'lly, all the chickens crow ! 
Gee, whiz, the starry stripes do shake 
Fer Glory an' her luv'd lan's sake ! 



What next ? The Bands trip inter line 
An' drill jest down to Court House — shine- 
With red dress'd duds an' dangling drums- 
At eight er'clock the'r music thrums ! 



Then, out ther way to east end park, — 
Fer jest short stay from "Noah's Ark,"- 
Ther citizens and forei'n born 
Perceed ter pass the program morn ! 



The air is full o' "Country" song 
'Round city streets from moven' throng; 
An' white er black, er young an' old, 
Injoy the fun to hev 'thought gold ! 

168 



DIALECTIC BALLADS 



Near high-time noon, 'fore hunger plays 
Her pranks on hosts with teasin' ways, 
John Smith he reads Decl'ration o'er 
Ez he hez done fer years afore ! 



The Summer sun is scorchen' hot, 
Ez watchers creep ter cooler spot, 
Ter scan slick riders passen' by, 
The'r jim-cracks gay at us ter fly ! 



The spoonen' swains soft soda sip, 
An' snick'rin' girls jest take the'r tip; 
'Tiz glory gran' fer dame er dude— 
The Fourth is biz all ter the'r goode ! 



The day drags on, and evenin' shades 
Sweep slowly o'er the tow'rs an' glades ; 
While shinen' stars blend with the night 
Ter spend the'r share o' flick'rin' light ! 



Then what ? Ez sure ez Ab 's my name, 
While others might jest write this same. 
The rockets roar an' rush on high 
With Injun whoop, ter sweep ther sky ! 



169 



DIALECTIC BALLADS 



Ther 's nuthin' like this wind-up scene, — 
Its burstin' bombs spread on ther green; 
I jest kin tell, in simple words. 
Them sights 'mind me o' firey birds ! 



The soarin' things, like eagles, swirl 
Abov', aroun', b 'low, a - whirl ; — 
An' I jest think this countree 's gran' 
An' good, an' true enuf fer Man ! 



J7ily 4, i()i2 




170 



DIALECTIC BALLADS 



VEN IT'S DUTCH UND HALB DEUTSCH 

Ven I vas vonce a leedle poy — 

Faertsich yahr tsrick — 
I lofed tu blay mit moocha choy, 

Gar ewich dhick ! 



Ven I vent oud ter fishes gedt, 
Dass geht aw gute ; 

I sthick de eelses troo der hedt, 
Dass sei sich blute ! 



Ven I fell gwlte der vawter, brim, 
Gans tsu mein rick — 

I gwick sblash oup tu gif a svim 
Heraus dem grick ! 



Ven I ter home didt hopple, wet, 

Mit einem karl, 
I shlivers git, frum der Oldt Vet, 

Darauf am sthall ! 

171 



July 6, igi2 



DIALECTIC BALLADS 

Ven I ter school-spodt vented tu, 

In Trei-seiben, 
I kiss't der maitels redt unt plue, 

Ueber un' ueben ! 



Ven I der deacher vas mich sendt, 

Ei, dieses sphass ! 
I veels so voollsh, unt so bent — 

Und tsimlich lass ! 



Ven I tu Phil'a Ceety goedt, 

Tsu Cen-den-niel 
I velt so pig ash Penn'a Roadt 

Durch oil dem sphell ! 



Ven I dose sighds yusht tooked in, 

Recht gute und gans, 
I hadt tu redchester widhin : 
"Heinrich X Hans." 



172 



DIALECTIC BALLADS 



THE PIANO MAN'S TALE 

Meest' man, I talk a-much 'Tal-ian, 
Trav'l lot 'bout place with-a pi-an' ; 
Da pi-an'-man 
From Lan-cas-tran : 
In-a da State call' Penn-syl-van' — 
Some time I sell bunch-a ba-nan' ! 



Week-a day I meex-a mac-aron' 
With spaget' meal at-a me throne ; 
Da wooman drone 
Her help-a shown ; 
She feed-a da monk free bit-a bone- 
Dls-a way we keep so sweet-a tone ! 



Da music I mak'-a each day 
Ees-a all right, da have-a say ; 
De pi-an' play 
Ever' which way; 
An' for mon-a I lik'-a to stay — 
De gal she help-a to get dis, gay 

173 



DIALECTIC BALLADS 

We liv'-a near da fact'ry road, 
An' push-a pi-an' lik'-a da load 
Ees-a in da "mode," 
As she 's-a towed, 
In sun-a warm, or-a winter co'd, 
When da city ees-a vera snowed. 

Some man he call-a me da joke, 
An' at-a me fun-a da poke ; 
Say pi-an' note 
Smell lik'-a goat ; 
I call-a police to geef-a stroke 
To help-a me work-a free yoke. 



Da wooman an' me take our pi-an' 
Up Ches'nut Street-a, Lan-cas-tran ; 

We turn-a han' 

At op'ra gran', 
An' grin'-a tune — beat-a big ban' — 
All to please-a beesa 'Mer-'can I 



July 6, igi2 



174 



DIALECTIC BALLADS 



IN SIGHT 

Dot 's de tunes ve hear ef'ry tay — 
Oudsites der house ve haf ter blay ; 
De poys are yusht in Mutter's roadt 
Like hundt, katz, or alt nonny-goat. 

Ess mocht nix aus 
Vich vay vone turn, 

Der poss dot house 
'S insite ve learn ! 

Ven d' vrisky kidts hike tu der woodts 
Der ailent 's lowse — mooch mischeef-moods 
Brompts dem tu grawl ride oup pig drees, 
Unt sthir sum bizness mit der bees. 

Oudsite der hifves 

Ish sveetly calm ; 
Insite, dose lifves 

Sthing like — balm ! 

Ven skule 's der rule fer gurls unt poys — 
Sveet sixteen sthuff, fillt oup mit joys — 

'S is alles recht 

Voss dey dit, dumb ; 

Der deacher stheckt 
Insite, py gom ! 

175 



DIALECTIC BALLADS 

Der wedtin' pells kan preak der gwiet 
Vrom silonce oudt tu laffs insidet ; 
Der breacher dakes dot dollar fife 
Pefore you 're gans gute mon unt vife. 
Yedt, nefer mindt 

Dis bleasant pill — 
Bredicher 's kindt — 
Insite— halt sthill ! 

De mooter-'n-coort kums niftily next 
Der huney-worlt insite t' ferhext ; 
Poor Chon un' Moll, or Sue unt Choe 
Shu'd net vergess dis hart der show. 
I shoost beleef 

It 's nun vitch vay — 
Soonce Atum un' Efe 
Voss bilt uf glay ! 

At Owgoost munth, ven it ish hodt, 
"At home" may pe your marrit lodt ; 
Tree-munt' Gretchie, mit 'r plue eyeses, 
Disdurbs your shleeps py redt cryses — 
Kix lidtle leeks 

Mit bubbly prite, 
Shoost ter you vex 
"At home," insite ! 



176 



DIALECTIC BALLADS 

Grand-volks, vonce ledters rote mit quills, 
Den stheel-mate pens reblaz'd dose ills; 
Der laidest lucks'ry, off der weldt, 
Iss typeride's shlick tu moch uns gelt, 
Unt pring uns sthrife 

At offese chair — 
Ven votchfool vife 
Oudsite gits dere ! 

De urth hash lodts off fryndshafft, shure, 
Vrom botched boobs tsu Simon bure ; 
Der ownly bodder 'bout svell beoples 
Ish, dey croddle oup tsu hoch stheeples. 
Ven dot 's enuf 

Outsite, im air, 
Dey gifs a shuff 
Insite, fer brayer ! 



July 27, /gi2 



177 



DIALECTIC BALLADS 



SAWFT-BILED AIGS 



When Dad eets sawft-bile' markut aigs, 
At mowrning meel orn eech born daye, 

He mowst alwus kums tue (an' baigs) 
Mam ter cleen hiz nailses uv claye — 

Brite yaller claye 
At hiz fingurs, 
'Til it 's wosht 'waye — 
No mowr lingurs ! 



Mam, she 's a burd fer b'iled aigs, 
And eets hurs from thu nat'rul shell ; 

She sits sow strate that (oh!) tew laigs 
A-help ter hold hur hieness swell — 

Yit, yaller yoke 

Drops deown hur dress 
Ez if ter joak — 

Hur waiste caress ! 

178 



DIALECTIC BALLADS 

Now, Tummy is a fonny runt 

Tue munkey with rich b'iled frute ; 

An' soe he slathers aigs in frunt 

Hiz faice, an' hed, an' hands tue boote, 

Thu yaller jooce 

Is a grate site — 
Well — wot 's ther use — 

Tummy 's shoor rite ! 



Siss, she is stuck sum on 'er sellf, 
An' flurts hur aigs in finust stile ; 

Fergets tha 're thin, like hur bo's pelf. 
An' flops thu sawft things daown ther 'ile. 

Sich yaller stuff 

Yer never seed ; — 
Mam 's orf in-a huff, 

At sawft- (?)-bile'-speed ! 



Augtist 17, igi2 



179 



DIALECTIC BALLADS 



GANUNK UND TSU VIEL 

A dahl leit deen spahrsom essa, 
Weil onra sie viel muss fressa — 

So geht die welt 

Von hunger snellt. 
Sin karls kan drinka mit fersthand- 
Kumrada soufa wie verflamt. 



August 26, igi2 



August 26, jgi2 



DEUTSCH FAR DICH 

Das Pennsylvanisch Deutsch 
Es sthimt vum auslandt Schweitz ; 
Mit yusht pahr odt wahta 
'Mixt far leit tsu sodta. 

Ich denk es macht nix aus 
Wass recht iss ueber d'raus; 
Mer kenna schwetza latz 
Im 'Merikanisch platz. 



180 



DIALECTIC BALLADS 

DAT MEEKSOM' MUHL 

som' compahrisons 

De muhl 's ah mos' meeksom' creetah,- 
He jis' a-cotch mah eye; 
Eb'ry time I seed dat faice, 
'Deed I — I t'Ink his grace 
Shuah is tu help mah cry ! 

De hoss am de w'ite fo'kses frien',— 

He 's jis' a-kep' dat way; 

Dey rubs a-daown 'is back 

An' race 'im roun' ah track — 

Pestahs his laigs all day ! 

De muhl am uh lonesome' lam',— 

He 's jis' sweet lik' ah sheep ; 
Calc'late his bes' bisnass 
Brings ca'm tu d' w'ite sinna's, 
When he w'acks 'em in a-heap :z 

De Chursey cow, I so't o' 'low, 

Looks lik' she 's cheersom', tew; 
But, 'deed, she 's jis' ah caow. 
An' eats cohn lik' ah saow, 
Ase ah muhl woo'd nevah do I 

181 



DIALECTIC BALLADS 

De muhl, deah fo'ks, 's no fool ; 
He can hoi' up his hopes 
Lik' ah club, wid his tail, 
Wen his hoofs hits de rail — 
He 's hustlah at sich lopes ! 

De carf an' de y'ung skittish colt, 
'Spec' dey 're orn dis job; 
But dey am tew childish, 
Wile growin' up suh wildish, 
An' dey don' 'arn no cob ! 

De muhl am peacabul an' tame, 
If he 's jis' lef ase boss — 

Dat 's de niggah style ; 

He cuts ah figguh, w'ile 
Dar 's no fuss ter loss ! 



August 26, igi2 



182 



DIALECTIC BALLADS 



JOSH'S INSPIRATION 

Them draowsy poets alwus say 

Thet dope they 'rite is soe inspired ; 

Gosh, daown in our ol' farmin' way 
Sich talk we swat at it all-fired ! 



We gin'rally size ther fellers sum — 

The'r hayr, the'r ayes, the'r hands, the'r eers- 

An', cracky ! them pearts seem ser dum' 
That I, fer me, fer them hev fears ! 



This inspirashun fad 's no good 

Fer beast er man, fer them thet dreem — 
Thu thing ter doe is : Go, saw wood 

An' then ye '11 kno' jest what 's my scheme 



Git up, right on, ter hones' wurk. 

An' hoe, an' dig, an' scrape ther farm — 

Yis, "darn" them dreemful times yer shirk, 
Ez toilen 's nev'r goin' t' yer harm ! 



184 



DIALECTIC BALLADS 



Wall neow, I he'rd from naybor Jake, 
A poet wurks with hiz swell hed ; — 

Thet 's new ter me, an' I '11 jes' take 
Back sum ther' words I may hev sed ! 

Yer see, thet if a man duz shuv' 

Hiz hed az hard ez hiz strong hands — 

I kin respeck him fer hiz luv' 

Fer wurk — them words fer Poet stands ! 



It makes ner diff. jest haow tiz dun' — 
This worken' bizness thro' the yeer — 

Jest soe the swet gits on ther run 
An' keeps a-body kind o' cleer ! 

The lazy jays thet doe not wurk — 
Them is the Ikes I 'd like ter reech ; 

Sech inspirashun thet thay shirk, 
I 'd squar'ly strike an' fa'rly teech ! 



AugKSt 28, I()T2 



185 



DIALECTIC BALLADS 



YIP LUEY'S CHOP SUEY 

His name It was Yip Luey, 
He kept a swell Chop Suey 
And fed Chinese, for boarders, all the day; 
While he lodged 'em, too, at night, for pay. 
His chops came in real handy 
To chaps who were Jim-dandy — 
American chaps: 
Mongolian chops. 

A laundry man, Sam Hooey, 
Who lathered " much-a bluie 
To help-a wash le clo's sometlime all lite 
An' make le colla' look-a shliny blite ;" 
This son of th' midnight Sun 
" Smoke-a litlee balls o' gun" — 
Black opium, 
" Just fo' le fum." 

At night Sam H., with money, 
Went to Yip L., so sunny; 
They took their dreamy dopes, like dragon flies, 
Till all around them aped great ogre eyes ; 
The sights thro' smoke grew hazy 
And made them sort o' lazy — 
Somewhat mazy. 
Not quite crazy. 

186 



DIALECTIC BALLADS 

When in waltzed Johnny Smith — 
Chop Suey was his "disth" — 
And ordered Yip to yank this for him, quick, 
Which Looey flung at Smithy like a brick. 
Then 'twas "hell Columkey," 
Happy land — well, d-drunky— 
And Johnny Smith 
Planked their pith. 

Three cops came in a hurry, 
They did n't even worry 
To have Yip Luey take along his hat; 
Sam Hooey, too, was handled as a rat. 
John Smith paid for his plunges, 
And Yip and Sam their lunges 
Meekly squared — 
And then stared ! 



August JO, rg/2 



187 



DIALECTIC BALLADS 



SAY, AMB Y'U AH SAINT? 

I 'm jis' a-goin' tu arsk y'us-ah, 

Som' stubf abowt y'ur hones' sins : 
'Kase dat abway I kno's how tuh 
Gaige y'u, shu-ah, 
Reech uh poo-ah, 
So 's no saint 'scapes, on world'y win's. 

Brudder Bunsing, war am dat fowbl ? 

Quit y'u jukin' at dis quesh'n ; 
Yer 's no moh feit tu pi'usly prowl 
'Roun' in de dawk, 
Ob Torkey Pawk, 
Den poss heah fo' pastah's blessin'. 

Y'ur hed draps deown tu y'ur ole knees — 

Yo' y'unges' sins I 'specs t' f rgib. 
Sistah Bunsing, amb yo' de cheese 
Cooks de chickun 
So she 's sickun 
Yo' saintly hub ? Now, ple'se don' fib ! 

Dat 's ah lady ! Brudder Wash-ton, 

Yo' sinnah — yo 's yaller wif paint 
F'om ah stohr-howse. Jurk dose Bawston 
Bakensom' beens 
A-out yo' jeans — 
'Polergise fo' steelen ase ah saint. 



188 



DIALECTIC BALLADS 

Dem beens' jis' hel' fo' de brack poah, 

Wid ah 'lowance fo' pastah's home. 
Sistah Wash-ton, amb yo' mos' shuah 
D' moke Wash-ton 
No mo' Bawston 
Bakens hab fo' breckfus' ham-bome ? 

T'ank yo', sistah, fo' yoh 'fesh'un ; 

Yo' amb bettah saint dan Mars' Wash, 
Brudder Bones, w'at 's de perfesh'un 
Gibs yo' silk hat, 
Suh spick 'n' spat ? 
Yo' loans it f'om gent, at Oshkosh ? — 

Wus bes' nig. at big weddin' day ? 
Tu be ah saint, yo' da'sent flam ; 
Dat 's nex' tu graft'n. Jis' 'gin tu pray. 
Sistah Bones, 
Don' yo' gro'nes, — 
I '11 jis' lit up on y'u lak ah lam'. 

I seed de fo'ks is gittin' aout 

Dis chu'ch at de souf-wes' en'. 
Haelp us, bredrun an' sistern, shaout 
Fo' de glowry 
O' Gawd's sto'ry ! 
All saintly-sinnahs say, A-men ! 

September 6, igi2 

189 



DIALECTIC BALLADS 



'LIGION AN' POLOTICKS DON' MIX 



I undahstan' de Barptis' bredrun, 'deed,- 
Dey hab a blessed 'ligion fo' ah creed ; 

But poloticks 

Jis' don' mix 

Wif de Lawd, 

Or 'is Gawd ; 
An' dey mus' kape it f'om de chu'ch, 
Ailse it wuU br'ak dere 'ligi'us purch. 



I hyard de Medowdis' hab got 
Ah chyor dat am paid pow'ful lot ; 
But poloticks 
Play sach tricks 
Wif som' fo'ks — 
Shady mokes — 
Dat shoo'd be awbful good an' prim, 
Not sing fo' waygers mo' tuh skim. 

190 



DIALECTIC BALLADS 

De 'Piscopuls jis' put ah preachah 
Inside dar chu'ch, a-hi'-price teachah ; 

But poloticks — 

Wif big sticks — 

Am dar, tew, 

Lik' ah stew; 
An' it shuffles hot-stubf might'ly, 
'Kase it cos' mo' tu kape rightly. 

De Chu'ch, fine fren's, wif its sinnahs 
An' saints, hab b'en a-holy winnahs ; 

But poloticks 

Ple'se Ole Nix; 

Bad fo' Lawd, 

Or 'is Gawd, — 
No good fo' dis worl' or de nex' ; 
In fac', it flops jis' on dis tex'. 



Septcviher 8, igi2 




191 



DIALECTIC BALLADS 



WHY WRITE "WORSES"? 

A German friend, who "meant it well," 
Ask'd me, awhile ago, to tell 
The reason why I wrote " sich stuff" 
As "worses," — for he had enough 
Of " dem tings dat von duzen't neet, 
Ash dey vas goot fer nix ter eadt." 



To please this festive Teuton chap, 

I, here and now, produce some "pap" — 

A Deutscher dish, with "leffel gross," 

To fill his belly "wie ein loase"; 

I '11 give him "brote," and "beer far darsht," 

Some "kase," and "kraut," and " lever-wurst," — 

Big " schnitz und knepf," or " fetta spheck," 

With "eats" made "worse"— per " deifel's dreck !" 



October 7. Tgi2 



192 



DIALECTIC BALLADS 



AT DA FRUIT- A -STAN' 

Me haf da good-a, beeg banan* 
O, at ma cheap-a fruit-a stan', 

Fo' cent-a peece ; 
Me roas' da ches'nut vera hot, 
All day, fo' mon-a at dis spot — 

T'ank you, pleese ! 



Me lof-a meex fun wit' 'Merican foke, 
Me show-a dis way Italian joke — 

You un'erstan' ? 
Me loog-a beet lik' dusky Dago, 
Me eat-a spaget' an' da sago 

In Lancas-tran ! 



Me keep-a reech gol up street fo' wurk 
To mak-a som' meal, to beat-a Turk; — 

What 's ma name ? 
Well-a, good mon, me 's Meest' Loprest, 
An' da wooman ees Mees' Hidrest — 

Ees n't dat-a shame ! 



193 



DIALECTIC BALLADS 

Me got-a watch da leetal boy, 
He much-a me evair annoy; 

He grab-a peanut 
An' ovair da track he run-a — 
Mak' vera too fool-a fun-a, 

Lik' Jeff-a Mutt ! 

Me Hk' sell grape In United State, 

Pennsylvan'-a, Lancas-tran, great; 
Heap-a fine fruit, 

Lik' appal, o' plum, oringes sweet; 

Aprecot, feeg, bananos — beeg treat- 
So vera goot ! 



Me stay dis place tal tan o'clock, 
When-a da trade ees get-a slack ; 

Da "chinq-a sol' " 
Soon-a don' shine, fo' fruit-a meat ; 
An' me shut-a stan' — macaron' to eat 

Wit' ma sleek gol ! 



October /g, igi2 



194 



DIALECl^IC BALLADS 



L'AT'S ALL LITE 

About the centre of each week, 
Throu'out the winding year, 

We leave some hnen with Lee, meek, 
Lone Chinese washman, queer; 

And while the collars he will take, 

Lee mildly chuckles, for our sake, 

"L'at's all Hte!" 



Lee rips a red slip in two parts. 
Keeps half, gives us torn mate. 

And, then, walks back to ply his arts 
In laundry work, till late; 

While, as we go and say we '11 call 

On Sat'day 'gain, wry Lee's words fall 

"L'at 's all lite!" 



On Satur'-eve we wend our way 

Once more to Lee's wash-shop ; 

Limp checks pass twain— we hand his pay- 
Three collars to us drop ; 



195 



DIALECTIC BALLADS 



Perhaps a shirt or two doth "stun"; 
Which Lee says, " L'ey are bella done, 

" L'at 's all lite ! " 



Between some drafts of stupid dope, 
Lee slides in more red checks 

From patrons standing 'fore fum'd cope- 
These strive to tease or vex — 

But nary bad phrase bothers Lee, 

He always greets stale puns in glee : 

"L'at's all lite!" 



November 2, igi2 




196 



DIALECTIC BALLADS 



SEEIN' THINGS 

Say ; d 'ye ever see spot 
Others per'aps could not ? 
Well, that is jes' poss'ble — 
Altergether tol'rble — 
And this 's the way it might be did — 
Whenev'r y'er looks under right lid — 
Y'er "left" a fly 
Light on y'er eye, 
And — and — my — my ! 
Did n't y'er cry ? 
Jes' 'cause y'er — y'er — nigh did 
"See things" askew eye-lid. 

Say, hosts, you have seen things 
At night, in bed, with wings. 
After late Thanksgivin' 
Spent in great, rank livin' ? 
All this came from hot pie — it did — 
And turkey, too, trot forth from lid. 
Y'er eat and eat 
The minced meat. 
The fat pig's feet. 
The custard, sweet — 
Jinks ! Y'er seen' em, dreamin' — y'er did- 
Divils a-dancin' o' the lid ! 



November 28, 1912 

197 



DIALECTIC BALLADS 



FRESH PAINT 



This daye, down streete, y'er smells fresh paint; 
Indeed, tiz soe ; jes' sure now, ain't? 
Gaunt index fingur o' y'er right han' 
Goes frunt ter feel bright color, gran' ; 

An' what 
Hap then ? 
Y'er smile, er bile an' blame sum chum — 
All but y'erself, fer bein' ser dum' 
'S ter put y'er han', az poker dire, 
Int' stuff that sticks like stokers' fire — 

Yet doe 
'T agen ! 

This eve, up towne, y'er scents new paynte, 
The sorte that 's pict'red on pale sainte 
By artist's payste, ser pure an' suite — 
Y'er part 's ter tutch er taste this treate ; 
An' then 
What hap ? 
Y'er slink awaye like sneekin' thiefe, 
Becores y'er cum ter weepin' griefe — 
She sez yu 'r mutch ter fresh fer hur, 
An' hits y'er heade an' calls y'er cur; 
She duz — 
Slap, tap ! 
December 7, igi2 

198 



DIALECTIC BALLADS 



DER COURT HOUSE BARPER BLATZ 

Dose harpers py der gross Court House 
In Lengeshter; — boof ! gudt, dose karls 

Ish on der chobs ; dey schrapes der snouse 
Pelow mine schmells, klose tsu mine halse, 

Midt lodts uf sthyle ! 



" You 'r schnext," dey shoudt, besites schvell sdool 
A loyyer stheps noch mich, in blatz — 
Unt zoon a braedicher 's neckst, py rule, 
In dritter sitz. Der barper's trate ish lots 

Tsu blease hish schmile ! 



Der poss dot blace ish gans recht gute 
Midt dose ladther ont shafe, unt friz ; 

Andt, frents, fine feelinks sthir dass blute 
Ash he mine fiz oop gleans, like biz 

Dot 's vort' von's vile ! 



199 



DIALECTIC BALLADS 

He chokes midt mich 'bout wridin' " Dutch," 
Den gwlck rercites som Harbaugh rimes ; — 

Ach ! budt it hellps mine thinks ter clutch 
Dose glassic halls uv Harby's dimes 

Vay town life's ile ! 



Der udder harpers midt der poss 

Ish full uf funs; dey lofes light worse 

Unt gifs a spiel, in prose, ter toss 
Avay der plues, or placks, in hurse, 

Andt bu'st badt bile ! 



I creets 'em oil, der short, der tall ; 

Dose harpers bray, vile dey yush' schrape 
Ter schnoots uf gay or grafe mens, all ; 

Der brice ish shoost alike — dey dake 

U. S. chink in file ! 



I like dose argyments ter hear 

Vot beoples dink unt swetz, und lach 

In hartzig vay. Der harper, near, 

He 's in der midt, crate spass tsu moch ; 

Unt rups hoar-ile — 
200 



DIALECTIC BALLADS 



'Roun' mine skating rink, on top, high, 

Tsu help der sphrouts grow oudt von bidt,- 

Der sthuft smocks ve Katrine, so shly ; 
I dinks I sees her, billich buildt, 

Midout ein guile ! 



Zumdimes I hears de harper's hartz 
Is bissly hat ; yah, dot 's halb drue ; 

Net hat ve hardt, yusht hot in blatz 
Ve warumer bedt fer mich or doo. 

Rose redt midt schmile ! 



Dem harpers py der pig Court House 
In Lengeshter ; — woof ! himmel, lieb ; 

Dere on der sphot ter shafe, unt snouse 
Midt dark vorries, porn in treem shleep- 

Dey boosts ten mile ! 



December 7, 1^12 



201 



DIALECTIC BALLADS 



HANS MICHEL'S LOCH 

Es iss an platz im Hempfield, noch, 

Dass hallt sein altes nauma ; 
'S twishig hivela ordlich hoch, 

Un guckt wie Sweitzlandt trauma ; 
F'r fertzig yahr war Ich a-weck 

Fun dieses haemlich weldta, 
Un, glaub m'r, yetz, 's namlich dreck 

Swembt ivver die stein feldta. 

Wass iss der nauma fun dem, doch ? 

Wei, yusht gans blain, Hans Michel's Loch. 

Der Michel Hans iss im letsht shlofe, 

'S erstes haus ist now nim mehr; 
Neu bawra wohnt als bei grum hofe, 

Un shafft dass eck wie alters, sahr ; 
Die keshta baem sin noch tsu handt, 

Un swartza ba'ra aw, so gute ; 
Weil bloema, schoe, wax im sandt landt 

Mit wilt kersha, wein f'r Deutsch blute. 

M'r ken't fiel sawga im sell sproch, 

Dass schwetzt war om Hans Michel's Loch. 

December to, igi2 

202 



DIALECTIC BALLADS 



STOP, LOOK 
AND LISTEN ! 

Ven Ich mich votch dot raleroadt town, 

Ter sees der drains drot indoo down, 

Dere 's von sign 's nod missen' : 

She 's " Sthop, Loog und Liss'en." 

Fell ! Ich gwick sthop 

Schnell ; mine eyes trop, 

Und den loog — 

Votch en' goog — 

List^nun' — 

Whistlun' ! 

Ven Ich mich votch dot inchines cum 

Ride oop, ter plotch dose steem-shines, sum, 

Kosh ! she gomes klose, kissen' ; 

Josh ! hur gum hose 's hissen' — 

Moch mich oud-look ! 

Sthup Ich 'boudt, gook ! — 

De veels sthop — 

Ve fiels ? Pop ! 

Sissun' — 

Lissun' ! 



204 



dialectic ballads 

And Lunch ! 

Ven Ich mich hunt rine essen platz, 

Vot iss im londt bi'me fressen, lotz, 

Von sign's fer dis bunchen: 

He's "Sthop, Loog und Lunche'n." 

Kum ! doe Ich sthup 

Zoon ; mine eyes sthuff 

Vill now see — 

Moul, brow' bree — 

Lunche'n 

Crunchen' ! 

Ven Ich mich hunt stein Icittles, hodt, 

Ter vayter handts mine mittles, lodt 

Uf fleisch, kraut, spheck. He gooken — 

Uch ! greisch a-weck, gute cooken' ! 

Hoch jinks ; loss moonch 

Doch dings, Dutch loonch ! 

Ich vull sthop ; 

Dich full crop, 

Punchen' 

Lunche'n ! 



January lo, rgrj 



205 



DIALECTIC BALLADS 



DIE GROSA FRESSA DIE KLEINA UF 

Du kanst gans grawd den das erglaube — 
Gern voll Ich der ebbas sawga — 
Die grosa karls fiel hova mus, 
Sic sthrovela weit far oil, gewus. 

Die welt dawg unt nacht Is biszy — 
Far gelt grawpt sie ; schlacht sie diszy 
Swoch, kleina leit ; far es nem't lotz 
Im oily tseit bey 'm fetta platz. 

Dick fish im sae dien fiel fressa — 
Ken ruh hen sie, sot sich essa — 
Ein kleina fish mocht wennich bree 
Far gros'r bouch seim swemlich sphree. 

So geht's aw, dem landt durich — 
Im sthore, stadt, koort ; yah, kuerich — 
Wo gute sthufft ist; yetz glaub, wohl oof; 
D' grosa fressa die kleina uf ! 

January t8, igij 

206 



DIALECTIC BALLADS 



VALUABLE THINGS 
COME IN SMALL SMALL PACKAGES 

Uch ! gute sthufft von duz hears ! — 
Dose kindt vot geefs grose cheers — 
Dutch mood prings pack sutch dings 
Short volks vas shoudts und sings : 

Der schveet bundtles 
Haf schmall hondtles ! 



Yah ! mer findts dem bure purls 
Mit shells pink, like shae gurls ! 
Der chems ain't pig; budt reech, 
Eef glae, tsu brize ash eech. 

Dese leedle dings 
Haf chewel vings ! 



January 24, igij 



207 



DIALECTIC BALLADS 



SUM "ISMS" 



Fer yeers ther 's bin mos' pequlyar 

Isms ; 
Sum tribes hev hel' qu'ar, eereg'lar 

Schisms. 
Yit sum jist 'ply ile, troolyar — 

Chrisms — 
Ez planes 'fleet brite, spectack'lar 
Prisms ! 



Sum giv squar' deel ter odd 

Truisms ; 
Yit sum jes' feel fer God, 

Deisms ; 
Wile ther 's yit sum's zeal t' prod 

Theisms ; 
An', bless thar souls, sum gits 

Bapt-isms ! 

Yis, we 've purty purtick'ler 

T I ! 

Isms ! 

Ter pierce blue sky, er plunge 
Abysms j . 

Yit, still they cum, 
Ter spill us sum : 

208 



DIALECTIC BALLADS 

Altruism — aphorism — barbarism^ — cabalism — 
Criticism — egotism — euphemism — euphuism — 
Heroism — hypnotism — mesmerism — mysticism - 
Nepotism — organism — occultism— optimism — 
Pantheism — pessimism — plagiarism— radicalism- 
Realism — socialism — somnambulism— stoicism- - 
Syncretism — vandalism — vulgarism — witticism — 
Sum anachronism — yit malthusianism ! ! ! ! 



March 15, [913 




209 



DIALECTIC BALLADS 



"LET 'ER FLICKER" 

Ted Jones, he alwus 'joyed 'is drink; 
Sed ut did 'im good — made 'im think; 
In Summer, ut ninety, he tuk 
A hummer reg'lar, by the buk, 
'Fore meel-time, uv brandy-likker ; — 

His shout 
With evenin' cum, "Let 'er flicker!" 

Day out 

Ted Jones never bumped int' bed 
'Fore 's bottle, each nite, he sped ; 
In Winter, ut zero, he tuk 
A squinter — ez hero fer spuk 
'Fore sleep-time — sum handy likker; — 

His song 
With dreemin' cum, "Let 'er flicker !" 

So long 

Ted Jones' drinkin' kep' up 'is life 
With gay thinkin' spells — an' gray wife 
Who seldum — Summer, Winter — tuk 
Her 'elldom close Ted, 'cept tu cuk. 
An' git 'is meels, quick ez likker; — 

His thirs' 
Ut las' hit wheels, ("Let 'im flicker!") 

In hurse 

April rg, rgij 

210 



DIALECTIC BALLADS 



TEARIN' DOWN AN' BUILDIN' UP 

These dizzie days thar 's kwite a craze 
Ter tear oV heouses deown ; 

An' bizzie Jays jest fite ter raze 

Tu groun' low, thread-bar' teown. 

They sw'ar er glare ; 
Yis, dar' ter tear 
Glum, stale shacks deown 
Fer sum hale teown. 



These shovin' ways, ter build, amaze 

Fo'ks ter-day, goin' up; 
Fer, 'bove 'm stays er Babel haze 

Ter grey thar' glowin' cup. 

Fresh air iz thar' — 
Yis, fair ez star — 
Yit 's high, fur up 
Flesh-fry ter sup ; 

Wile, tearin' up, when buildin' teown, 
Ther bestest pup 's a-wearin' deown. 



April 26. H)rj 



211 



DIALECTIC BALLADS 



A-BUYDE MIDT MICH 

Huch ! yuse hafun't dime ter reat 

Mine wersickuls, tew-tay ? 
Ruke eesy; wee '1 nod cheet ; 

Py grenk, dere doe tsu sthay ! 

Eef dese leerix do n't soote, 
Yusht yit, kix mer kein boote; 
Bleese vate avile ; budt lach 
Midt mich — schmile, buy mine sach ! 



March 29, igij 



212 



DIALECTIC BALLADS 



NOTES 



The intrinsic beauty, or merit, of any lyric lies in its musical rhythm and 
limpid measures; all lines and groupings being co-related to one another. Dia- 
lect should be interpreted with spirited freedom, and read aloud whenever pos- 
sible. Literary clubs and educational circles ever enjoy animated personal read- 
ings from authors, since the latter bring out those varied tones required in sense- 
ing clearness to the topic in hand. 

Pages 155-160. — The German's English has many strange sounding words and 
humorous combinations of phrases. "Dot Belly," while treated in the first 
person, gives impressions gained from different Lancaster individuals. "Mine 
Automobubbles" was written by request of a good city neighbor, after he 
had taken writer on an adventurous spin to a native heath at Landisville. 
"Zanidairy Effishuncy" sends forth a "funny" public flash at so-called purity 
and modern cleanliness. 

Pages 162-166. — This cheerful epic is first attempt of author at depicting "col- 
ored" life "befo' de wah." Part of these impressions were a-witnessed by 
writer, at Rohrerstown, Pa., about 1869, during Fall-time revivals of a yellow- 
hued negro family, then living near the old public school grounds. Former 
Southern friends and relatives were on hand, joyously singing and praying 
as in their masters' lowly cabin homes. 

Pages 167-170. — This sketch of a Fourth of July in Lancaster is clothed in 
Brother Jonathan's language, as style best suited to the rhythmic the;ne. 

Pages 171-172 — Partly personal ; though much more descriptive of that period 

Pages I7;i-i74. — This tale, well as one printed on pages 193-4, is genuinely typ- 
ical of Italian characters the author has noticed near his home. 

Pages 175-177. — An "inside" story with a .straight-away moral attached. 

Pages 178-179. — Suggestive, indeed, of yellow marks left at family breakfast 
served with Lancaster County soft-boiled eggs. 

Pages 181 -182. — The mule and negro are a most curious duality, with elements of 
humor as free from guile, yet prompt in purpose, as of any combination the 
writer can conceive. 

Pages 184-185. — Poets maybe inventive dreamers; but if their thrift brings results, 
whether of cash, courage or cheer, are not their luteful lines from hopeful 
lives "worth while"? 

Pages 186-187. — A Chinese ballad, with a blunder or two biffed in, to bestir a chop 
suey and keep several occupants awake. 

Tages 188-191. — For practical application of ordinary religious truths, few can excel 
the "cullud pastah "; and the author lets him speak out in no uncertain admon- 
tion, so as to be easily understood by "de w'ite fo'ks," well as "de brack." 

Pages 199-201. — Dedicated to Rohn's barber shop, now conducted by Mr. Duing. The 
author purposely spells German words, at times, as "dey ish sphoke," liereabout. 

Page 202. — Hans Michel's Loch is charmingly located, at the base of several hills be- 
tween Rohrerstown and Centreville ; the author possessing not a few photographs 
of its sloping, Swiss-like prospect. 

Pages 204-205. — "Stop, Look and Listen " is thoroughly original and indicative of 
locality at P. R. R. depot, Lancaster; and the writer requests its earnest recital. 

Pages 206-207. — Two old-time common sayings, with Dutchified clarification. 

Pages 208-209. — There seem to be almost as many "isms" about this world, as stars 
in the space above us ; and they do keep right on a-twinkling, as God's centuries 
come and go. Let each heart withal be happy, without wasteful worry. 

Page 211. — The new Brunswick, Lancaster's first sky-scraper, brought forth the trite 
thoughts incorporated into "Tearin' Down and Buildin' Up." 

214 



TRILLS AND 
FRILLS 



Lancaster Lyrics 



HEADACHE AGAIN! 

The tricky thing is here — 
Worse than ever before ! 

It always feels so queer 

With thumping pains galore 



My head, it whirls and whirls ! 

My brains roll 'round and 'round- 
Hair straight, bias, then curls — 

No peace can there be found. 



I wish that I were well ; 

I hate this headache, sure ; 
It hurts so much, I can 't tell 

The base stuff from what 's pure 



Pull — stretch — bumpty a-bump ! 

That is the way it goes ! 
Things all jog, and then jump 

From crown, to crest of nose. 

217 



TRILLS AND FRILLS 

I dread to eat a dinner — 

My effort brings faint groan ; 

Am sick like sad sinner — 
Ay, sore into each bone. 

I wish — I think I do — 

Forgive the wretched thought — 

That some lean, mean old shrew 
This pinching pain had caught ? 

Betwixt these twirls and twists. 
And bing, and bang, and bore — 

It aches down to my wrists — 
I now can write no more. 

June 20, igo5 D. B. L. 



218 



TRILLS AND FRILLS 



MARY HAD— 



Yes, Mary "had" a little man, 
And he was flush and fat ; 

And ev'rywhere that she could plan. 
Her hub went, too, quite pat. 

Now, Mary was a suffragette. 

Of thin views she did quake ; 

And when her man began to fret 
About her fads, she " spake." 

She spake so much, where'er she went, 
That hubby got the "pips"; 

And to ye "bug-house" he was sent 
To pass in checks and chips. 

So Mary, then, had fulsome sway 
And trotted forth to knock 

All other men, who chanc'd her way, 
From off "bad" earth, by shock. 

She shocked them all, both short and tall. 
Then shock'd herself, for change — 

And now she rests, "in peace," so small 
That none her place can range. 

March ii, igi2 

219 



TRILLS AND FRILLS 

HELP THE HOBBLES 

Hey, there ! 
Have you beheld latest hobbles ? 

Well, now, 
Here go the girlies, with wobbles ! 

Say, Clare, 
How about your op'ra goggles ? 

Do n't bow 
So much at the female toggles ! 

Is n't it 
A shame to span their thin stockles 

So tight 
That dudes duck down dopey noddles ! 

And flit 
After flirts with skirts in mottles, — 

Just quite 
Upset, you bet, 's empty bottles ! 

Help the hobbles — 
Whelp the wobbles — 
Grip the goggles — 
Trip the toggles — 
Stick the stockles — 
Nick the noddles — 
Muss the mottles — 
Bu'st the bottles— 

S'nuff Sedd! 



Febriiary 20, igi2 



220 



TRILLS AND FRILLS 



POETRY FS. POULTRY 

A metric maker of verses, rare, 
Whose choice compositions 
Reach'd diverse editions, 

At times his purse found thin as air- 
And his pleasing poetry 
Ceas'd to purchase poultry. 



A skillful genius of his day 
Soar'd he, in rhymic haze, — 
Set Hyperion ablaze ; — 

Yet, withal worthy, living lay. 
His own idyl'c poetry 
Fail'd to furnish poultry ! 



A rural kinsman kept a farm 
In trust, for future years ; — 
He left for further spheres ; — 

Lean poet felt this changeful charm ;- 
Produced plumpest poultry, 
Prolific, like poetry 1 

221 



TRILLS AND FRILLS 

A better epoch edg'd along ; 

Chickens added treasure; 

Each imagined measure 
Was full and sweet with winning song, 

Since abundant poultry 

Paid for bard's poetry ! 



July ;j. igi2 




222 



TRILLS AND FRILLS 



"THIRTEEN" 

Let 's quote this Number " 13," lest 
We "qualm" the other num'rals, true; 

The rest of figures bear free test — 
When folks belate "thirteen" till blue 



The cat may come with kitties, cute. 
And you begin to count all heads — 
"Thirteen" youngsters just ripe to shoot 
As soon as you can swipe their beds ! 



The maid you told to start a fire 
In kitchen stove at your new flat. 

Arrived "Thirteenth" o' June, to hire. 
An' fired too much — was fired for that 



The milk-man came one morning, late. 

While you were 'way. Your money change 

Left at door steps, "thirteen" cts. straight, 
Left with a tramp soon out of range ! 



223 



TRILLS AND FRILLS 

A cousin calls from country side, 
" Thirteen" unlucky miles away; 

He catches chicken-pox. Your pride 
'S choked because he has to stay ! 

Guv'nor sets big date for certain 

Tricks boun' to win, or surely lose, — 

The "thirteenth" day of May 'n '13,— 
To drink white water or brown booze ! 



This "thirteen" biz 's old 's the hills. 
Because at thirteen ninety-three 

Christo. Columbus caught no chills 
Awaiting fourteen-nine-two t' see ! 

And, later on, in seventy-six, 

July " 13" was a bum date 
To send the tories all to sticks — 

A 4 was put upon Sam's slate ! 

The birthday of dear, honest Line. 

And Washy's, too, in each fine Feb., 
Would hoodooed be while at the brink 

Of "thirteenth" day, at its low ebb ! 

224 



TRILLS AND FRILLS 



Smart suffragettes should be a-spurtin', 
That Congress does not end their din 

The "thirteenth" month of sour '13, 
And spill their "spiel" to sweetly win! 



Those Thirteen shoes are not too big 
For Windy City girls to wear; 

The noise they make, in dancing jig, 
Can always crack Chicago's air ! 

The thirteen stars of thirteen States 
Were lucky starters for us all; 

They figur'd fine, in Yankee dates, 

And safely bro't good luck, quite tall ! 



I see that now I 've rattled down 
Or up, just thirteen verses, queer; 

I '11 vie to freeze you with a frown 

At thirteen ghosts "saw" here, "next" year 



.-i/fgl/sf 24, 1(^12 



225 



TRILLS AND FRILLS 



ALL ON ACCOUNT OF A COMMA 



Aft Shakespeare quit this spheric stage 
A-long ago, in his high time, 

Some faulty folks found a strange page 
Among ye prose of poet's rime; 

And, in a trice. 

They trac'd odd flaw 

With Shake's advice — 
Whose Will did awe ! 



His " second best bed," you all know. 
He left, by paper, to his wife ; 

And this scant 'lowance 'gan to grow 
Somewhat like unto public strife. 

The mean old muse 
Was " in it," then. 

For female 'buse — 

And from "just" men ! 

226 



TRILLS AND FRILLS 

For scores and scores of later years 
The scholar-critics tried to prove 

That WilHam was the prop of peers 
In classic and most classy groove; 

Yet, that " second 

Best bed" stuck forth 

As fate 's reckon'd, 
From south to north ! 



The writer now wafts this new claim, 
To clear black sky of Shaky's "will" 

Comma back of "second," was his aim- 
But, he forgot to place quaint quill 

Right then and there. 

To give his best 
Bed, second, square. 

In that bequest ! 



August //, igi2 



227 



TRILLS AND FRILLS 



THERE IS NO HUMOR IN HIM 

Many — oh, yes — many a time, 
I 've heard this pessimistic chime : 
" There is no humor in him." 
Let 's see ; 
You say, in him no humor sails ; 
His purse, his head, his heart just ails — 
Dries up the humor in him. 
Ha, he ! 

There is a man of mum renown, 
Who makes his home in Funs-own-town, 
Yet has no humor in him. 
Why so ? 
The sight of fun swats at his nerve ; 
He can 't smile at its furzy curve ; 
It frazzles humor in him. 
Ho, ho ! 

'T is said, there was a gentle-mam 
Once took a-hold of six-year ram, 
With his thick humor in him, 
For fun. 



228 



TRILLS AND FRILLS 

She got it, sure; so did ram-sheep; 
The latter gent, stood top that heap, 
Kept all slick humor in him, 
And won ! 

A tale is told of Mister Blank, 
Whose tho't of life was awful rank; 
He had no humor in him ; 
'Twas lost. 
He stood each night and slept, all bent. 
To save his bed, or paying rent; 
No sense of humor in him. 
That "cost!" 

An Englishman has no real use 
For humor without any U's — 
Which stretch the humo//r in him, 
Rawther ! 
Pat, Irish naybor, oynly schmiles 
Widh Y's and H's, sphoke in foin sthyles, 
Thaht sthop no huomor in him. 
Bawther ! 

A chicken thief came 'fore a judge 
Sedate and stern, who wouldn't budge; 
These was no humor in him — 
Just law ! 

229 



TRILLS AND FRILLS 

A bu'ster of a bank did trudge 
That week before this austere judge ; 
He found high humor in him. 
Haw, haw ! 

A portly pap was pained by boils, 
On which he plaster'd fakir oils ; 
The humor still stayed in him, 
To tease ! 
A skinny chap, who was a wag. 
Struck at those pimp's like playing tag, 
And burst ripe humor in 'em 
With ease ! 



September 13. igT2 



230 



TRILLS AND FRILLS 



FOR SAM' AND BEN'S SAKE 

When Franklin went to woo the French 
In gay Paree, to gain their aid 

For Yankeedom — to grip and clench — 
He courted Crown, and queenly maid ; 

And bent his head to gossip, queer, 

Or lent big bladder for wine — (beer?) — 
For Sam's sake ! 

The wisdom of this Printer-friend, 

Whose home-work ran so sagely good, 

Was sterling stuff to steer the trend 

Of British lords, clear where they stood — 

And Ben stay'd up, at nights, to gain 

The gold, display'd with bright champagne, 
For Sam's sake ! 

The philosophic sense of Ben 

At besting those who sought his mind, 
Was ripe as Socrates ; for, when 

He rested after lunch, no kind 
Of rasping, indigestive pain 
In belly blasted him, as gain 
For Sam's sake ! 



232 



TRILLS AND FRILLS 

Uncle Sam'el yet tills the field 

So clearly got with Franklin's skill; 

The World doth watch its magic yield 
To worthy strain, some sphere to fill. 

Let 's not forget fine service, then, 

In France — its wine — to win its men ; 
For Ben's sake ! 

The scientific gains to Man 

Since Franklin's slower times of old. 

Have been full great ; we barely can 

Trace out their growth, so free and bold 

Electric gifts loom up, thus bright. 

By dulling day or gloomy night. 
For Ben's sake ! 

Ben's diplomatic feats to those 

Who fought for freedom in this land, 

Cannot be measured in plain prose 
Or rhythmic verse. In Passy, grand. 

His homely ways — his clever chat — 

Won loans for wars, with belly, fat. 

For Sam's sake ! 

Dcci'D/hir /y', /g/2 




233 



TRILLS AND FRILLS 



NOTES 

Pages 217-218. — The nerve-racking feeling and painful thoughts of these verses, 
were fairly inspired by a real, rasping headache ; and all the discordant 
sentiment was jotted down during worst of an experience, in order to prop- 
erly elucidate that temporary cranial disturbance. 

Page 219. — "Mary," besides having had a docile lamb in her tender days, has 
also had many other things, since then. The author lets her have full play, 
for awhile, with more mature "sheep." 

Page 220. — This alert composition ought please the most critical observer of fe- 
male toggery ; and gay girls, themselves, should not pass over this versic 
pleasantry without appreciating some force of writer's imputations. 

Pages 221-222. — Poetry and poultry, while synonymous in word-sounds, do 
not, as a rule, swing or wing in the same direction. Yet, in this sketch, 
some related personage of means but scant life, soon cleared a clogged at- 
mosphere ; and the enthused bard's pipes began to tune a-new, while his 
physical being kept growing apace, by aid of industrious hens and their 
conical fruit. 

Pages 223-225. — -To illustrate the "unlucky" side of "thirteen," 'twas deemed 
best to contrast a little fortune with the popular idea. The author attempts 
to treat perplexing topic in a jocular manner. 

Pages 226-227. — Many conjectures have been made and printed concerning a 
clause in Shakespeare's Will wherein he bequeaths a certain "second best 
bed" to his consort. The writer gives that great composer of blank verse 
credit for best of intentions, when he probably was not exacting enough in 
punctuating last personal legal paper. 

Pages 228-230. — The author almost invariably sees a "funny side" to things, of 
daily occurrence ; and, frequently in his intercourse with men, however nor- 
mal and sober-minded they are, he finds there is some element of humor 
in them, if it can be ferreted or wiggled out. 

Pages 232-233. — The one word in all of Benjamin Franklin's journal writings, 
which well displayed his guileless make-up and homely honesty, was his 
use of "bell}-" as referring to the receptacle which is now termed a stom- 
ach. The writer virtually adds lustre to a noteworthy name and priceless 
servant to the Colonial-United States, by showing Franklin's free use of brain 
and belly to accomplish great ends he had in view for all his countrymen. 

234 



VARI-CHORDED 
SONGS 



■iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii II I III II II II I nil! 



Lancaster Lyrics 



A PRINTER'S PICK-UPS 

Clear clickety click 
Of type in stick 
Is "print's" delight, 
From morn till night. 

He " sets" with zest, 
While sluggards rest ; 
And does n't shirk 
His art, nor work. 



When days are bright, 
His task is light; 
Should "things run slack," 
Head he will rack. 



Clean is his " case," 
Whate'er the "face"; 
Chums has he, many ; 
Fake friends ? — not any ! 

237 



VARI-CHORDED SONGS 

Ev'ry one knows 
Where'er he goes, 
A printer 's pretty 
Sure to be witty. 

Purse may be Hght — 
Favors are right ; — 
And these, free friends, 
Form worthy ends. 

March 4, 1^04 j) g ^ 




238 



VARI-CHORDED SGNGS 



DON'T SHIRK YOUR WORK 

There 're quite a few "don'ts" in easy life 
That refuse to better our breezy strife; — 
The best 's no doubt, by timely test 
Express'd, "Do n't Shirk Your Work" — but, rest 



In the daily grind for goods or grub. 
With its trying rub and tiresome scrub — 
'T is tempting to quit and sedately sit 
'Round about to shirk one's work a bit. 



The first-made Man was happy and free, 
The "do n'ts" did n't bother him, you see ! 
Full time was always his own, to use. 
To wander abroad, as he might choose. 



Then a vision came across God's green — 
'T was Woman, a queen upon warm scene — 
And Adam, I ween, began to — dream : 
" Do n't this," " do n't that," " do n't think ;" " just 
teem !" 



239 



VARI-CHORDED SONGS 



And truly, believe, he would not quirk — 
For Love's sake, ever, he began to work; 
To exert and labor his lot 's been since, 
'Til, later. Toil turned to twist and wince. 



All along mute ages, for years and years, 
Man had his dubious doubts and fears; 
He loafed, and worked, then lounged again 
And mingled, for change, with crowds of men. 



Fond mates o' the men, sharp women in scheme. 
Got next to jobs with the start of steam ; 
And, bruskly as Trojans, some tried to win 
Swift ballot with suffragette bombs — by sin ! 

There 's something to suit for each dear sex ; 
The "don'ts" ought n't stay too near to vex; 
There 's Room for us all, and Work to do ; 
Let's mind this clear call — it means "Sam" and 
"Sue"! 



December /j, igr r 



240 



VARI-CHORDED SONGS 



PATHS 



PRIMEVAL 



The first paths form'd on land 
Were wound past virgin wood — 
Where wild beasts trod, or stood 

At tracks dug down in sand, 

And soil, as moss-bound mold — 
Through Seasons' sun or cold. 

These paths led high, led low. 
O'er hills and dales of earth; — 
Of trails there were no dearth. 

Wet weeds and stalks did grow 
About each space, quite free ; 
As vines lapp'd limb and tree. 



When man began to wage. 
And wander o'er this sphere. 
He, too, made paths so queer 

That thence, from age to age, 
Such routes ran to rude caves. 
By steeps close sea-swept waves. 

242 



VARI-CHORDED SONGS 



MEDIEVAL 

Ye marching hosts of old 

Mov'd forward to their quest, 
O'er gory lanes — ill blest 

With ease, yet bluntly bold ; 

And strewn were warriors, tough, 
On rocks and road-ways, rough. 

Swart folk of Indian days 

On hunting grounds did roam, 
Near haunts of sylvan home. 

Their paths lay through thick maize,- 
'Cross nature's bridges, bent 
'Bove streams, to which they went. 

DOMESTIC 

Then came odd kine-path crooks. 
And these pass'd blindly by 
Most sparse spots, sure to try 

One's skill to seek their nooks ; — 
Each cow and calf was slick 
At tramping, thus to trick. 

Lovers sought Maiden Lane, 

Where paths were fair and free ; 
There lingered long to see 

243 



VARI-CHORDED SONGS 

Life's drifting dreams for twain ; — 
Air castles, then, crept nigh ; 
Houses, high, now scrape sky ! 

COMMERCIAL 

Full hundred years have fled 

From end to end of sphere ; 

New paths pass far and near; 
Steel tracks do mark, instead, 

The trails of tired teams 

By mounts, o'er vales and streams. 

Great cities grow where lanes 

Once led to verdure green ; 

Tall buildings loom, between — 
Lift up wide walls from planes, 

In marts of merchants' make; 

And work thrives in their wake. 

DOWN TO DATE 

Of all the newer paths to take 
To-day, when weary worn, 
Three tide the illy shorn : 

The first with aqua pura slake, — 
For allo-paths are good, — 
While water works with food. 

244 



VARI-CHORDED SONGS 

The next near path to use 
Is homeo-path, so round 
As pellets can be found ; 

The last path close to choose — 
Osteo-path, all over, 
With balky bones in clover ! 



January 20, igi2 




246 



VARI-CHORDED SONGS 



WHEN THE ROBIN COMES AGAIN 

At end of March, in each young year, 
When April wakes to meet glad Spring, 

The robin, then, doth come to cheer 
Rapt world with carols it can sing. 

By break of dawn, in some tall tree, 

Gay-feathered songster greets fresh light ; 

With winged lay, its notes flow free, 
To scatter wide slant shades of night. 

Throughout bright morn of each new day — 
Midst buds and blossoms all around — 

Red-breasted bird, its love songs sway 
High up at sky, or low to ground. 

The robin's tunes trill on till eve. 
In welling waves of gleeful joy; 

And no one, near, need fear nor grieve 
To hear such strains — a-free alloy. 

Aplil 2/. /t)f2 

247 



VARI-CHORDED SONGS 



ALL HAIL THE HONOR OF VIRTUE'S NAME ! 

All hail the honor of Virtue's name ! 

Let legions proclaim long; 
Go forth with worthy, goodly fame 

And thrill the Landis throng. 

Parents, whose lives were ever pure. 
Their deeds we link in song ; 

Go, spread the sane, the safe, the sure — 
And bless the Landis throng. 

Let gifted daughters dearly love 

The duties of each day ; 
And splendid sons their labors shove, 

To win the Landis way. 

O, that with passing pleasures, grand. 

Let us forever pray 
That we keep close, in Godly band, 

To crown the Landis way. 

May 25, 79/2 

248 



VARI-CHORDED SONGS 



ANGLO-SAXON AND GERMANIC SONGS 

Olden England ! Isle of angl'and, 
Whose shores are wash'd with waters, grand, 
And swept by winds across sea-waves — 
Thy havens hold a home for braves ! 

Thy cliffs creep up aloft the deeps. 
As weeds enwrap thy lower heaps ; 
Thy mosses mold at ancient towers. 
And grasses grow in greenest bowers ! 

Olden England ! Gray old England ! 
Do thou extend thy gracious hand 
To those who have no dearer place 
For Anglo-Saxon speaking race ! 



Newer England ! Post o' Indian-land ! 
Where conscience first made its clear stand ; 
Thy early settlers earned a name 
For sterling virtue 'round their claim ! 



249 



VARI-CHORDED SONGS 

Thy bays and ports have kept brave men 
Who won their way o'er mount and glen ; 
And, through each stage of civil story, 
Thy plan and purpose gave thee glory ! 

Newer England ! Thy hopeful band 
Of Puritanic fathers planned 
Their labors true, for lasting time ; 
Which later poets placed in rhyme ! 



Old Germania ! Fatherland of worth ! 
Here Genius glows with richest birth ; 
Thy strength of character hath grown 
World-wide, clear for its very own ! 

Thy castled streams forever shine 
In splendor, with the classic Rhine ; 
All thy powers for greatness grow 
From honest work, without weak show 



Germanic race ! Thy vig'rous grace 
Throughout the globe vast kingdoms trace ; 
Thy children greet thee ev'rywhere 
With gen'rous hearts and faithful prayer ! 



250 



VARI-CHORDED SOEGS 

New Germania ! True Pennsylvania ! 
The best land west of old Germania ! 
Vast watered vales and tree-decked slopes 
Give fullest life to all thy scopes ! 

Thy mines, thy mounts, thy rivers wide, 
Bespeak the plain Germanic pride 
For many blessings, born of toil. 
Close by thy sylvan shades and soil ! 

True Pennsylvania ! New Germania ! 
Keystone growth of old Germania ! 
The garden spot on God's green earth ! 
The ground where freedom found its birth ! 



Aug7lSt 2r, 1^12 




252 



VARI-CHORDED SONGS 



RED, WHITE AND BLUE 

The Indian braves of olden days 
Bedecked themselves in bolden ways, 
With feathered plumes on fangled heads ; 
Or, beaded charms in spangled reds. 
Well-woven cloaks enwrapt these folks 
In warming colors, 'neath red-oaks ; 
A-blending with the browny tan 
O'er sun-kist race of native man. 



Atlantic clans, in civil life. 

Change pale-face styles ; — such now are rife 

In shape and shade of showy kind, 

With white to tone each whim of mind. 

The fixing tint of ruling race, 

Enlighted with real growth of grace, 

Is God's wise ray of purest white, 

To win our day from darkest night. 



253 



VARI-CHORDED SONGS 

As e'en the rose is never blue, 

So, too, no race has held this hue; 

The sky above is blue, indeed. 

To contrast with earth's blooming mead ; 

The sea its waters deeply blend 

With green and blue, from end to end ; 

The stars of heaven shine at night 

Thro' vaulted blue, in streams of light. 



September i6, igj2 




254 



VARI-CHORDED SONGS 



CAN YOU NOT CHEAT YOURSELF? 

Whene'er you cheat some man, 
A chum or common foe, 

At once such sordid plan 
Is charg'd up to your woe. 

You may, in fact, give less 
Than fairest measure, now ; 

Yet, later on, this mess 

Will mutely meet your brow. 

The smallest shortage, friend, 
That you can faintly give ; 

Shall tallest seem ; its trend 
With self, in pain, will live. 

Deceitful acts of thine, 

When dealing with free world, 

Are bound to back, or twine, 
Thy way, as sin unfurl'd. 

255 



VARI-CHORDED SONGS 

The Dark-one you may bluff 
By dodging him, in skill; 

His hooks, howe'er, are tough 
And strong enough to kill. 

As chickens coming home 
To roost, at shelt'ring place, 

Stray tricks you scheme shall roam- 
Then stare you in shame-face. 



September 28. H)r2 




256 



VARI-CHORDED SONGS 



THINK 0F:THE dear, YOUNG DAYS 

Do n't dote on drifting down and out 

At life's old age ; 
Just keep a-thinking that thy route 

Is youth's gold page ; 
Be bright and blooming as the rose 

With its sweet grace, 
And waft a crooning tune to those 

Who greet thy face. 

When thou art tasting too much "truck" 

That 's of thine lot. 
Then, go a-haste'ing for " good luck" 

Left near fine spot ; 
Young pluck has something to be proud 

Of, at this day; 
So, lift a humping heart, aloud, 

In bliss-built way. 

Thy state is shifting for sure test 

That 's safe at hand. 
And God 's a-sifting, from the rest, 

Grants for his land ; 



257 



VARI-CHORDED SONGS 

Then, get a-going, in youth's prime. 
With hope and trust ; 

And reap, aft sowing truth in time. 
Thy scope as just. 



" We 're young but once," yet our true care 

Can thrill eld fear, 
Since, while there 's life, there 's set new fare 

To fill each year ; 
The fields of youth are deft with play — 

Pure shapes — dear end ; 
Like faith, forsooth, they 're cleft for aye 

By fate's clear blend. 



October 12, rg/2 



258 



VARI-CHORDED SONGS 



JUST THE RIGHT STROKE 

'T is easy, e'er, to shape things up, 
Or down, when you ken how. 

This world is willing, sure, to sup 
Soup, as served by frau — 

With just Right Stroke ! 

Swift rower clears wide stream so well. 

By craft and oar to ply, — 
Till, slower, sweeps he shore, a-swell 

Of wave which lands him, dry. 

With deft, Right Stroke ! 

A boxer, by the name of Bluff, 

Believes that he is built 
For burly touch ; two fists, quite tough, 

Of Quick hit him to hilt, 

Hard, with Right Stroke ! 

An artist draws, from dawn till dusk, 
Fair fields he sights a-far ; 

259 



VARI-CHORDED SONGS 

And' brushes streaks, for Fame, if brusque; 
Or, builds on Hope's bright star 

Athwart Right Stroke ! 

Smart widow bides her time to tell 

The man she steers to win. 
That better days are theirs to dwell 

In wealth, if he "digs in" — 

Deals out Right Stroke 

A bearded bard, who wears his hair 

In waves to woo meet Muse, 
A-tuneth lyre to cloy life's care — 

With songs of joy infuse — 
All at Right Stroke ! 



'T is wisely best to bear thy cloak 
With care, so that blab-folk 

Can barely soak rare chance for joke 
Nigh thee — to poke or croak ; — 

Rest at Right Stroke ! 



February 75, /p/j 



260 



VARI-CHORDED SONGS 



KVOLUTIONARY PRONUNCIATION OF "AD" 

Ye cheerless tyme of shoppinge lyfe, 

Some hundrede years agoe ! 
Brave bizness men gave bargaynes, ryfe, 
Bye sunder'd trayde ; or slowe, 
Wize, season's 
Adver-/>'2^-ment ! 

E'en later, 'fore "mulatto" gore 

Big battles sent along, 
Mean trader sold "humano" store — 
"Nig" chattels lent lay-song — 
By monthly 
Adver-//5^-ment ! 



When railroad trade ran " Westward, ho," 

Nigh steamboat routes galore. 
Then matters made a rapid "go" — 
Spry planters got "ashore" 
Per monthly 
Ad-x;^r-tisement ! 



261 



VARI-CHORDED SONGS 

Keen methods of electric force 
Soon shorten'd dull delays- 

Mem'ry to Edison and Morse- 
Boon to pull press relays, 

Glad 
Ad ! 



Marcli /, /y/? 




262 



VARI-CHORDED SONGS 



TO-DAY'S SONNET 

To-day the trooping children chase o'er street 
Of thriving town, where fifty years ago 
Stiff soldiers trod drear place with tired feet; 
Alike, the aged veterans walk slow. 

This Decoration day — a-bent as bow; 

While, tripping on, with winged hearts a-beat, 
Their children's children voices blend to show 
Of flow'red gifts, faint shelt'red from May's heat, 

Bestrewn nigh Blue- and Gray's green-guarded grounds. 
Thus, freer views and aims are ours, to-day, 
A-learnt from troublous war-time's fighting fray ; 

And, so, we strive to watch and save these mounds 
Of martyred men, as storied check, for aye 
To clam'ring kin, to keep them in clear bounds. 



J\f(-iv JO, igij 



263 



VARI-CHORDED SONGS 



NOTES 

Pages 2_^7-238. — The average printer -compositor is identical to that shoemaker 
who "sticks to his last" — with this difference: the former "sticks type," 
and is ever happiest when thus occupied. 

Pages 239-240. — A solution to those trying organized, revolutionar}- movements 
is honest occupation, producing something worth while for others ; and this 
can only be accomplished by legitimate efforts of brain and brawn — partic- 
ularly the latter, when made in no meagre or mean measure. 

Pages 242-246. — This poem was prepared for author's birthday supper, and read 
by him, on Lincoln Day, 1912, in recognition of one of his twenty-four 
guests. Dr. Warren A. Sherwood ; whose sympathetic influences, for better- 
ment in physical and mental conditions, are being felt by an increasing 
number of grateful people. 

Page 248. — Composed for, and read at. Second Landis Family Reunion, Lititz, 
August 3, 1912. (Tune, "All Hail the Power of Jesus' Name.") 

Pages 249-252. — These songs are filled with some of the truest and noblest aims 
of our English and German ancestors, emphasizing impress of latter in sub- 
stantially upbuilding Pennsylvania, and particularly its "garden spot," Jl,an- 
caster County. (Anglo-Saxon and Germanic Songs read by writer at Third 
Landis Family Reunion, Collegeville, Pa., August i8, 1913. ) 

Pages 253-254. — A blending of the national colors in American people and their 

wearing apparel. 
Pages 255-256. — Unvarnished tale of results reacting from cheating and other 

crafty trickery. 
Pages 257-258. — To keep young, one should think of and do enervating things: 

throwing all hindrances aside, and getting into fresh touch with a forward 

spirit. Be optimistic, have pluck, let your light shine, and your life will 

flourish in vernal beauty like an evergreen growth. 

Pages 259-260. — Many a masterpiece is made so by placing "just the right 
stroke" at its finish. 

264 



TO AND ABOUT 
FRIENDS 



Lancaster Lyrics 



ONE BY ONE THEY PASS 

Ay, one by one, friends pass along 

To other planes of action ; 
As, day by day, the fated throng 

Goes forth, to fresh attraction. 

Long-time past, with playmates plenty, 
And study-hours at season's end. 

Youthful folks — sixteen to twenty — 
All fled away, like transient friend. 

Out to Life, aft luring places, 

Old comrades left, for newer change ; 

And soon were lost loving traces 

Of former friends within late range. 

Three decades, deep with worldly work, 

Move by me, in due order; 
Near fifty years thus mutely lurk 

Nigh scenes of faithful ardor. 

Each month, and week, and going day. 

My mates march on, beyond ; 
May their High Hope, I freely pray. 

To fruitful fields respond ! 

June ,V, ii)ji jj J, j^ 

267 



TO AND ABOUT FRIENDS 



TO MY FRIENDS 

Bright thoughts to my kind friends I send, 
Where'er this day they all do live ; 

Right things, I trow, will be the end 
Of efforts we shall try to give. 

The stride of Time comes ever near, 
In sunny paths and shady lanes; 

And with each hour, of month or year, 
We know and feel its joys and pains. 

Life's ways and days are fill'd with deeds 
Of love and truth, of faith and trust ; 

And these are good for all our needs 
O' body, or mind and soul so just. 

To young and old, likewise, I greet 
Them with the present wishes, true ; 

And hope that we can, sometime, meet 
In glad and sweet reunion, new. 



Di'Ct'fnber 7, rgii 



268 



TO AND ABOUT FRIENDS 



TO ,J. D. L. 

Full mony a day I 've lang'd to stare 
At some Scotch muse, like Burns o' Ayr ;— 
Aye, such lives here, in active age, 
Embodied with strong gift of sage; — 
I 've wish'd to chat, quite clear in sicht, 
Wi' ae brave mon, whose heid was richt ; — 
Whose han' reached far above sair pelf — 
Whose hame and he'rth were pairts o' self. 



Now, reader, friend, to pledge fit truth, 
'T is best I show to you this youth — 
For Youth he was, and is, forsooth. 
When he could wrestle Burns — from Booth ! 
To Scotia's hills I jot his name, 
To Pennsy's vales I plot his fame ; 
And no one, fair, is there to blame 
When Law "gets there," — well, "a' the same!" 



February //, igoi 



269 



TO AND ABOUT FRIENDS 



TO H. E. H. 



I scarce know much 'bout God of old Who shaped this 
clay-seameci clime ; 

I know more truths since you have told straight tale of 
Him in rhyme ; 

God's ways are linked with life and light in all religious 
creeds ; 

And bright, indeed, are they, and right, who study Nat- 
ure's weeds. 

Out-doors, by aid of sight and sense, God's plan doth 

plainly teach, 
As ne'er perceiv'd in pew or place. His real things in our 

reach ; 
For ev'ry pebble, shell and stone near hill-side, shore or 

sea. 
Bear witness of a future zone where you and I shall be. 



But what it is, and where, I 'm sure is naught for soul to 

state ; 
Man's wisdom, seems, is rather poor — am taught so 't any 

rate ; 
So, guess 't is best to live in hope that later on there '11 

be 
A Shrine of Rest, with richer scope than earth, for you 

and me ! 

March 5, r(^02 

270 



TO AND ABOUT FRIENDS 



TO C. E. L. 

Twenty-three, October, may be"skiddoo"; 
This Nineteen Eleven it do n't mean you ; 
Cognomens, in time, grow clever, as sung ; 
At seventy, aft prime, they 're yet kept young. 

A "wise guy" once had it blandly recorded 
So 's three score an' ten 'lone were hoarded — 
Allotted — to men o' our worldly sphere — 
Bah! take it; that soundeth "funny" an' "queer. 

Charley L isn't "short," see, by any means; 

Neyether, too "long," is he in many "greens"; 
He's alright, sir; and you may take my word. 
Doth delight — e'en a-chirp — like canary bird. 

Bright story, light joke, or similar stuff 
Are easy; aye, breezy; and ne'er so rough 
Gay teller can 't give us gospel measure. 
With special prescribings, at brief leisure. 

Here 's wishing 'im hale, glorious seasons 
To keep 'im a-going, for goodly reasons ; 
May th' years busy be — strong as 'is own name. 
An' each day and month full o' his home fame ! 

October 2j, igi I 

271 



TO AND ABOUT FRIENDS 



TO B. F. W. U. 

Dear Doctor Urban: Manly muse, 
Thy Work is worthy; — to infuse 
Day dreams, when deeds are dwelling dull ; 
Thy verse is luteful, e'en to lull 
Life's mutest hope. 

Friend of the town; good, toiling seer: 
Thy Songs are soothing to each ear 
Whose sense of soul can sound their truth: 
Thy paeans please the eld, and youth 
Yields to clear scope. 

This triune rime — free, modest man — 
Is given thee, to greet thy Plan ; 
The writer voices, in faint way, 
Full richness of thy lyric lay. 
Where critics grope. 



filly 14.' rgi2 



272 



TO AND ABOUr FRIENDS 



EXTEMPORE, TO MRS. M. O. R. 

We folks have been looking 
For some real good cooking 

Full many a season; 

Yet, always a reason 
Cut shines, by its spooking 
P'ar off, for odd booking. 



This year, our dear old cook, 
With big, bound, brand new book. 
Got busy, at her throne, 
By baking a la Rohn ; 
And, now, we live and look 
Like stuff to swipe a spook ! 



Dt'ccmbci 26, i()i2 



273 



TO AND ABOUT FRIENDS 



TO F. R. D. AT EIGHTY 

A wreath, this day, for you I '11 weave, 

From my own hand — 
By heath each friend, e'en foe, may breathe — 

As nigh throne-land. 

Your grooves have grown, as grind of gears, 

'Round arcs of toil; 
Which prove how proud have been grand years 

Bound with mind-moil. 



Large store of facts from life, and more, 
Have kept you clear 

To pore, full — and pen, free, rich ore 
For kin to cheer. 



And now, please, let me place on you 
This wreath of rhyme — 

A bough no friend, nor foe, need rue- 
Your fame bides time. 



April JO, iQiJ 



274 



TO AND ABOUT FRIENDS 



A TRIOLET FOR REV. DR. C. E. H. 

Giver of Good to All His Flock, 

To hosts of friends at home, at large ; 

Christian he is, by grace and frock, 

With Love for Souls of Worldly Flock; 

Staunch form as this, like living rock. 
Will ever reach forth and enlarge 

With each new strain, aft straying flock. 
To Guide Such Safely on God's Barge ! 



August JO, TgiJ 



NEW YEAR TRIO 

These greetings. Friend, are free and true: 
May blessings blend your life, all through; 
My wishes send I thus, to You. 



1912-13 



275 



TO AND ABOUT FRIENDS 



FOUR RARE TOWNSMEN 

SHAND 

Great strength of purpose from this Man 

Hath girded grit on all 
Our people; he's been in front van 

Of city's growth, full tall ; 
And ever gives, by tithe or time, 
Vast good that 's of him in his prime. 



GARVIN 

A character such as this one 
Is rare, indeed, to find 

In any city; Lancaster's Son 

Seeketh freedom of mind — 

Its conscience — for his many friends ; 

And charity to each extends. 

276 



TO AND ABOUT FRIENDS 
WILLIAMSON 

To beautify fair Nature's haunts 
And bless the common folk, 

Of chosen home, with pleasant jaunts, - 
These joys are 'neath his cloak; 

To carry with him night or day, 

As treasures clear, in sight, for aye. 



SCHIEDT 

His Science works nigh God's own laws, 
Through wisdom, safe and sound ; 

So that all parts are free from flaws ; 
Thus, no one shall confound. 

His service reaches forth, to search 

Still more rare wonders, from Mind's perch. 



Febtnary 20. 1(^14 




279 



TO AND ABOUT FRIENDS 



LEST WE FORGET 

There are some friends we value much 
That fail of sight and speech ; 

Yet these find place within close touch 
Of hand, e'en mind to reach. 

They e'er yield courage, morn as eve, 

And cheer each soul to still achieve. 

"Lest we forget" these friends, so dear — 

Of home, of joy, of hope — 
Let 's note them now, as volumes near 

To read, and view their scope. 
And let us learn, from printed page. 
Of goodness grown from age to age. 

Go, ope your Books of gather'd lore 
And greet their range of truth ; 

Forget ill tales; — but cling to store 
Of grain that 's fit for youth. 

Then, when life's Winter skies turn gray, 

Your Books, warm Friends, will beam for aye 



December 20. n^ij 



279 



TO AND ABOm^ FRIENDS 



NOTES 

Page 267. — The passing away of former companions, noticeable to writer, is 
only what occurs in any one's career. Every character, going elsewhere, 
leaves a memory. It is always well to recollect the best acts of each per- 
son, as when one-time about us. 

Page 268. — Issued, in folder form, as a holiday souvenir to the author's friends. 

Page 269. — Indited for Mr. James D. Law, after reading his work, "Dreams o' 
Hame." Present use of the word Youth signifies a vigorous muse, or man 
of letters. 

Page 270. — Inscribed to Mr. Herman E. Hoch, after studying a "Conception of 
God" in his book, "The Land of My Dreams." The author's first line to 
H. E. H. means to make plain that he has not quite as much knowledge 
of God as many profess to have ; desiring to learn more as he goes, and 
grows, through life. 

Page 271. — Sent to Charles E. Long, Esq., active citizen, on his seventieth 
birthday. 

Page 272, — Forwarded to Dr. B. F. W. Urban, after perusal of his "Dreaming 
on the Conestoga. " Before his departure, the Doctor appreciated a private 
reading of a few poems herein presented. 

Page 274. — Written for F. R. DiffenderfFer, Litt D., local historian, on his eight- 
ieth birthday. 

Page 275. — A tribute to Rev. Dr. Charles Elvin Haupt, of whom it has been 
frequently stated, to the writer, "If there's a good man in Lancaster, it 
surely is Mr. H." 

Pages 276-278. — From among the many townsmen of author's acquaintance, 
Messrs. James Shand, M. T. Garvin, H. S. Williamson, and Dr. R. C. vSchiedt 
stand forth with fine qualities of civic effort for community construction. 



280 



LYRICAL 
VISION 

■iniiiDiiiiiiiiiiiiHiiiiiiniiiiiiiniiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiPiiiiiiiiiiHiiin 



Lancaster Lyrics 



GOING YEARS AND COMING SEASONS 

FLEETING FANCIES 

How soon the years speed by — 
Like phantoms, Hght, they fly ! 
The days and months drift down 
Deep hnes, and leave their crown 
On one and all ! 

FLITTING FORWARD 

How grand the start, and great 
The hopes that guide each fate ! 
Life's hours are pure and free — 
Teeming land — swelling sea ; — 
And true their call ! 



How fine the fields do seem 
When Spring wakes mead and stream ! 
Each bud and bright new blade 
Enfolds glad earth and glade 
In sunlit smiles ! 

How clear the air and breeze ! 
With cheer free birds tip trees. 
And breathe their tales of love 
To mates lin'd near, above — 
On steeps for miles ! 

283 



LYRICAL VISION 

How sweet the Summer's skies ! 
Here warm kiss'd winds arise, 
To seek, in safe retreat, 
Rip'ning harvests, replete 

With richest store ! 



How long and drawn the days ! 
Now all mankind's work-ways 
Are wag'd at ceaseless gain. 
To garner in great train 

Vast tithes, and more ! 



How full the Autumn heaps ! 
With golden glow, Fall creeps, 
Then guides Time on to glory 
O' changing season's story. 

Nigh close of year ! 



How ripe and rare the scene. 
Where brown now blends with green ! 
High gales soon grow and blow 
O'er hills, by dales below, 

To make them drear ! 
284 



LYRICAL VISION 

How sure the Winter comes ! 
With chilly wind, that hums 
And hurries o'er the land, 
In wildness, on each hand, 
To fear its form ! 

How fix'd God's Pole-land law ! 
Where frozen deeps do awe 
With wondrous heaps of ice. 
To thrill Man in a trice 

'Mid sleet and storm ! 



How dear the leaves of life ! 
With fewest dents, or strife ; 
No one can scan their scope 
To fail in help, or hope. 
For better things ! 

How kind the coming years ! 
Whence Joy dispels dark fears 
With fondest dreams, and Truth 
Wells 'round fair maid or youth 
In endless springs ! 

Deccmho 2q. k^ii D B I 



285 



LYRICAL VISION 



LAUGHING AND WEEPING 

The world loves those who laugh, 
With joys quite free to roam ; 

For smiles are sweet to quaff 
In office, shop, or home ! 



The sun's rich rays reach down 
To drive dull care away ; 

Then laugh and chat — do n't frown, 
Or fret, or fuss — get gay ! 



If weep one must, then try 
To do so firsts while sad ; 

And when inclined to cry, 

Lift up, faint heart — be glad ! 



The clouds may come or go. 

With shadows damp around ; 
Yet, now and then, we know 
Clear figures can be found ! 

286 



LYRICAL VISION 



He laughs the best, this hour, 
Who doth it with a will ; 

The laugh with light or pow'r 
Hastes hopeful hearts to fill ! 



'Tis better, thus for all. 

That mirth meets us to-day 

The laugh that 's last is tall 
Enough, by lots, to stay ! 



Jam/air /, r()/2 




287 



LYRICAL VISION 



SHORTER STEEPLES 

The time Is coming fairly fast 

When steeples, tall, will have to go 

From churches, — relics of stale past, 
Like other passing points, you know. 



A cent'ry since, it was ye fad 

For pious folks to heavens reach ; 

Bold spires did reprove the bad, — 

And, help'd brave ministers to preach. 



The further up steep spires went. 

The better far then was firm church ; 

And weather-vanes most always lent 
Grace to their freest, highest perch. 



I used to like to see a steeple 

In ev'ry town around about ; 
For there, I thought, were Godly people. 

Not 'fraid to sing, or loudly shout. 



288 



LYRICAL VISION 



The sinners surely, in those days, 

Had fear, when going to " big meeting," 

Where spires did their pointers raise 

High up to all Faith's hosts, in greeting. 



Those times were quaint and grandly good. 
For saint or sinner — like a story ; 

And steeples clear in splendor stood, 
To guide them all to greater glory. 



A turning tide came on, in season. 
And spires began to bend around 

The other way ; for some new reason. 
Steeples bluntly becked to ground. 



It seems some folks that were real human 
Tried to erect stout Church for those 

Who came to meet God's men and women ; 
And so they shorter steeples chose. 



Now, since steep spires are getting less. 
The "sinful" plainly have some show, 

289 



LYRICAL VISION 



For all spread plumes, or flow'rs and dress, 
Are nearer to this world below ! 



The saints, of course, still yet can sing 
Their hymns and tunes, to luteful lyres ; 

Yes, now each one can safely bring 

Their gifts quite near, away from spires ! 



February /S, iqi2 




290 



LYRICAL VISION 



DEATH'S SLEEP 

If Death is like drawn sleep, 
Where none need wake to weep,- 
May we not move along 
Our service, with a song ? 

If Sleep 's like shorten'd death, 
Whence life is but its breath, — 
To watch, again, near day 
Is well, indeed, for aye ! 



May ij. J()i2 



PAST AND PRESENT 

Let 's note the Past, with its great page 

Of treasures, old ; 
The Present, too, in this late age 

And pleasures, bold. 
The dead, in spirit, dwell and move 

O'er teeming earth ; 
While those who live, to-day, but prove 

Their seeming worth. 

May //, 1(^12 

291 



LYRICAL VISION 



THE BROAD-MINDED MAN 

I like the many-sided man 

Whose daily walks denote his worth; 
The character who, in God's plan, 

Shows lib'ral sense of noble birth. 



I feel that when a man is wide 

In will, his heart is likewise good ; 

He always views his place with pride- 
Pure cause of common brotherhood. 



I think that man is doing well. 
When striving fair to find a way 

To win true things, if he can tell 
The perfect parts from soiled clay. 



I know that after many years 

Of toil, and hope for better life. 

The man whose mind is free from fears 
Will bravely stem the world of strife. 



292 



LYRICAL VISION 

I wish that more could freer be 

From narrow walls near closed sites, — 

Then gen'rous glories one would see, 

And man's best works might clear of fights. 

I love to note the growing man 

Whose human touch and sense of soul 

Are broad enough to brightly scan 

The Maker's scheme to grasp his goal. 



June /6, igT2 




293 



LYRICAL VISION 



^ 



MY HOPE 

My hope is like a limpid star, 

High up, 'way off, in heav'nly sky; 

Its beams are bright, while beck'ning far — 
Clear lights thro' cloudlets hov'ring nigh ! 

This thought leads forward to a time 
When all that 's fair or true on earth 

Will sweeter be, like soul sublime — 
In a free state, with a new birth ! 

Angi4st 2j, ig/2 



294 




Ci.ori) Rkflections in Conestoga Kivkr. near Gable's Park 



LYRICAL VISION 



ALL'S WELL 

When sadness o'ertakes you, 

Like sin, 
Then gladness awaits you 

Within, — 
And sunshine without you, 

To dwell — 
Twin Glad-Suns to greet you 

All's well. 



August 26, r()i2 



BLUISH-GREEN 

Some people think that since the sky 

Is Turkish blue 
That they might do as well t-t-to try 

To turn so, too ; 
The same peop. surely see this earth 

Is Irish green. 
And they, as quickly, lack n-n--no dearth 

To hire its sheen, 

August 26, I()I2 

296 



LYRICAL VISION 



SELF-DENIAL 

The while one learns to hold aloof 
Weak pleasures of the day — 

Self-strengthened, thus, for world's reproof- 
True treasures tow'r to stay. 



The crowds may chase, in great array, 
For transient ties, and vain ; 

Thou need'st not care for their display, 
Much more shalt be thy gain. 



The constant effort t'ward the best 
Will ever win its worth ; 

Thy self-denial 's but some test, 
In trifling things, on earth. 



August 2/, H)r2 



297 



LYRICAL VISION 



CROSSING BRIDGES 

We 've had a number of bridges to cross, 
With loving friends, since the long ago ; 

To do this each year without some loss, 
Such feat rarely e'er was just so. 



Full many a time there were great gains 
For the effort we then made to go ; 

Fair bridges beck'd to brighter lanes 
Away beyond dark waters' flow. 



Few streams of life, we may be sure. 
Lead to still rivers, quite alone. 

With but one bridge to span low moor — 
More crossings there yet are, to "tone." 



Thus, sooner or later, we pass them all, 
The bridges built by earthly ties ; 

While Hope helps us over fate's mall. 
Across last Sea Bridge, to God's skies. 

September /, igi2 

298 



LYRICAL VISION 



NEW IN YOU 

'TIs said, there is no thing so new 
But that it has been told before ; 

Quite true, in a way, from old-time view ; 
Yet, let us try to turn this score. 

There ne'er were two hearts just the same 
In each part of their perfect whole ; 

Twin shares exist in sense or name, 
Tho' none partakes the other's soul. 



The fact that you. Latest, are here 
In flesh, in thought, in act, and sight, 

Shows to the world some greatness clear 

From God that 's fresh, and new, and right. 



September 4, 1^12 



300 



LYRICAL VISION 



LET'S LAUGH, TO-DAY 

Let 's laugh, to-day, — 
Throw chaff away ! 
New friends are here, 
Old chums to cheer ; 
Warm hearts grow light, 
Cool heads show bright. 



Let 's laugh, to-day, — 
Chase clouds away ! 
Good guests are nigh, 
Bad ghosts to shy; 
True mates are near, 
No fates to fear. 



Let 's laugh, to-day, — 
No storm can stay ! 
The sun will shine 
With warmth, in fine, 
To light this land 
And guard it grand. 

301 



September 21, igi2 



LYRICAL VISION 

Let 's laugh, to-day, — 
Do n't growl till gray 
A "grouch" is bound 
To crouch at ground ; 
The best will come 
To those who hum. 



Let 's laugh, to-day, — 
Few bills to pay ! 
'Cept such we owe — 
And these, you know, 
We '11 fix 'em all 
Like fun, this Fall. 



Let 's laugh, to-day, — 
Just grasp the gay ! 
Let 's merry be 
With goodly glee ; 
Let 's live and laugh 
Rich joys to quaflf. 



302 



LYRICAL VISION 



AWAKE, ASLEEP— AGONE ! 

Awake, asleep — at play or rest — 
A child bears joy and cheer; 

Away, at home — we love the guest 
Who plans its pleasure, dear. 

Like bud and blossom, bright and sweet, 

At break of morn in May, 
A boy or girl will sprightly greet 

The best things of Spring day. 

Each year of grace, in healthy youth. 
Yields forth its growth and gain ; 

Nor fear to trace life's fervid truth 
To learn its lessons plain. 

The man of mature age doth toil 
From dawn of day to night ; 

He tries, and plies, to ably foil 
His passing time, of flight. 

Awake, alive ! Asleep, at rest — 
A soul has wrought its way; — 

Agone 't will be, by Nature's test, 
To newer world, away ! 



Sc pi on her 2(). K)r2 

303 



LYRICAL VISION 



THE PLEASANT PATHS OF PEACE 

Let 's pace the pleasant paths of peace, 

Where walks are free from want or waste ; 

Let 's wage no wars ; and let us cease 
To fell the weak, in fev'rish haste. 



Let 's shape frail human hosts of earth, 
Whose hearts may fail from selfish aim. 

So that their cause, whate'er its birth, 
Shall win clear calm, by wisdom's claim. 



Let 's live to gain glad love for toil 
By brain or brawn, in healthy ways; 

Then give true grain, from growing soil, 
To those who dwell thro' peaceful days. 



Let 's plant our seeds of rest so well 
In parts to aid the scope of man. 

That placid arts of peace will tell 
The world of order, per God's plan. 



October iS, Tgi2 



304 




A Svi.vAN Road in East Hk.mfkikld, Wkst df Kohkkkstown 



LYRICAL VISION 



THY TRIUMPH 

Rejoice, right now, for things just here 

To animate thy hfe ; 
Transcend blest brow with wings of cheer 

Do n't agitate, by strife ! 

DeHght to think of what thou hast, 

To contemplate, and do ; 
Enrich thy deeds ; no part of past 

Can elevate, so true ! 



Exalt thy sphere with joy and hope ; 

Ne'er habitate slight fear; 
Triumph by trust; and thy glad scope 

Will gravitate quite near ! 



Januajy 4, H)i3 



306 



LYRICAL VISION 



A RETIRING PRAYER 

To-night, dear Lord, I lay me down to sleep, 

Aright, do Thou my soul and body keep ; 

Forgive the thoughtless things I 've done. 

Forget, if wrought, my sins, each one. 

Be kind to those who dwell with me, 

And find a home for them near Thee ; 

Lord, bless the spirits gone before, 

The dear related friends of yore. 

Let those about me, in their life, 

Stay close to truth, and free from strife ; 

And may we all prove worthy band 

Of worshipers to praise Thy Land. 



Noz'i'iiihcr 24. n^rj 



307 



LYRICAL VISION 



REPOSE 

The curtain 's down. Night draws a-deep. 

A soul, serene, meets tranquil sleep. 

Thus, God doth keep 

His Sheep. 



March 5, igi4 



308 



LYRICAL VISION 




309 



LYRICAL VISION 



NOTKS 

Pages 283-287. — While years come and go, each fresh season yields something 
different from similar calendar periods. These two poems were written at a 
time when anthor was bending forward to brighter times, after recovering 
from interruptions in the home circle a year or two previous. 

Pages 28S-290. — The modern church is built without those beautiful spires, once 
deemed so necessary to places of religious worship. The writer, while treat- 
ing his subject with a slight touch of humor to illustrate an under-thought- 
feels that nothing in Lancaster's architecture can excel the grand steeples 
of Holj' Trinity Lntheran and P'irst Presbyterian churches, with their gilded 
pointers raised majestically skyward. 

Page 291. — These versicles have original contrasts, calculated to give hopeful 
views of life's various changes. 

Pages 292-293. — In cementing the common brother- and sisterhood of humanity, 
nothing trends better in this divine direction than a "broad-minded" spirit. 
Let there be more of this charitable disposition and all will be well. 

Page 294. — Hope is ever the brightest beacon to buoy a soul searching beyond 
its present state and sphere. 

Page 296. — When things look uncomfortably black or blue, 'tis well to remem- 
ber that sun-like effects prevail where "God's presence 'round us shines." 

Page 297. — Temporarj^ self-denial, in vain or extravagant matters, always brings 

its own peaceful relief and recompense. 
Page 298. — From sight of many real bridges in this world, is it not a splendid 

vision to imagine one grand, final faith-structure, spanned across front Vale 

to sublime security- ? 
Page 300. — The fact that there is no one in existence e.xactlj' like You, and 

there never was nor will be, makes your personality' new and pleasing. 

Pages 301-302. — Laughter is one of the happiest children of a cheerful life, en- 
wreathed and enhanced with smiles. 

Page 304. — The author discountenances war by bloodshed and advocates, instead, 
peaceful pursuits of brain and its body, for every one's existence and bet- 
terment. 

Page 306. — By patiently and pleasantly working out your welfare, with a pure 
and friendly spirit for right and rational ideals, you will cultivate a chaste 
and endearing character, with joys awaiting you every day, everywhere. 

310 





THP: AUTHOR'S LEAK 


Ma\- 


this stout book be thine to read 




And to possess : 


May 


its outlook incline, e'er lead, 




To happiness : 


Fine 


friends be found near field and fen — 




Glades of gladness ; 


Earth's ends — as bound to free more men 1 




From shade-sadness. 


May 


verse of muse, each j)hoto view, 




Draw forth delight : 


May 


these infuse keen hopes anew — 




To ken aright. 


Pure 


joys are gems, just now. t(j cheer 




In rich measure. 


If th 


ou but give these pearls, .so clear. 




From thy treasure. 


March v. 1914 





D.Wil) r. \CHM.\N I.ANDIS 





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except by special permission from the author and publisher. 

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